There
is no light
For the plight of my people.
We are a dying
people
Lost in the aeons of Time.
There is none who hear the
call of the ages-
The Valley of the Singing Gold is now only a
flowering dream.
Beauty wanders dim under the light of the waning
stars.
It is a firefly under the canopy of a tree hidden in the
vastness of velvet night.
One by one, we have left these
shores.
We have crossed the Sundering Seas to enter the Undying
Lands.
Until I am left alone, last of my kin.
I stay because I
am bound by cords of love
To this world I have walked many ages of
men.
Though I know joy awaits across the seas,
Whispers of hope
thread through my heart as I watch the dawn.
Yet awhile, I think,
before I heed the call of the sea.
Years pass. Dawn to dusk
and dusk to dawn.
Long days have I walked on the shore,
Waiting
for the coming ship to take me hence.
When it comes, I will be
ready.
The day dawns, and with it come cries of
birds.
Graceful birds whispering of a ship come.
They come for
me!
Awake, o wind!
Bear me far away to where the hosts of
the ages dance and laugh together in love!
Awake, o wind!