Orichalcum on the run;
eternal winters.
Laid to rest
beneath the brow
of shining birch trees;
we sing our praise to thee.
Here yonder shining grave
with tears of sapphire
in the dawn
brightly lighting the beyond
for the incoming travel,
we embark upon tomorrow.
Let us seek our way forward at last.
Categories:
orichalcum, allegory
Form: I do not know?