Harken aeons of sun and moon and earthly bounty beheld by the eye.
Recall the tales of mountain and vale, of flowers and stars in the sky.

Remember the islands of bone and of stone, of crystal and copper and gold.
Long ago lost yet have never been moved, they persist and they wait and grow old.

They share the helm in this tenuous realm from its depths to lofty heights.
Their presence we feel although concealed for shadows drown out brilliant lights.

Forgotten the time of grove and vine, together swept under a wave.
A ruin this hour found no consolation, resurrection the path from the grave.