Sing Me Another Song

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What'll it be, Forename? You know, if you have a second, a certain patron of mine's been itching to have a word with you—our friend the bard here.
He says he needs inspiration that only an adventurer's tale could provide. Plain lacking in imagination, if you ask me, but he's not a bad sort. Wandering or not, he never tries to pay in song what he owes in copper.

Forename, can it be you? You've outdone yourself since we last met, that much I've heard.
They say you sojourned to Dalamud's Shadow, yet live to tell the tale!
I was in these parts at the time, and felt a disturbance in the aether. It was the White Raven himself, you say? Ah, no wonder!
Tell me more, my good Forename! Recount to me your journey through the Shadow... Take me there, on the wings of memory and imagination!
Your stirring tale has...has...stirred me! Lo, I am as a cauldron bubbling fragrantly in the great kitchen of a castle keep. A stew of inspiration—a slew of verses!
Listen, my good adventurer, and listen well,
for the song I sing is of your tell.
Into the flesh of Darkness go bringers of Light,♪

for the flame that flickers in Bahamut's tomb.♪
In that cloying black stirs a raven white,♪

clawing blood from a barren womb.♪
What was slain in silver proud did in golden malice rise.♪
Metals of infamy and ruin, that every hero must despise.♪
What say you? Is this not exactly how you told it to me?
Ah, but you forget, I am a poet! We read between the lines, rendering into words that which was left unspoken. Lest you wonder, I shall name this composition "Shadow of the Raven."