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Midst a mountain range, where the seraphim once flew

Through frozen valleys and through wintery landscapes

There they stand, the ivory bridges, colossal pillars of oak

There it lies a kingdom of hope, a glory buried in cold.

Once an arcane blue aurora

Once ethereal, a fragrant memory

Once a sanctum for the shadows

Once a threshold to their twilight.

The years, bygone, shimmering radiance

Farewell they bid

Mutter of reminiscence

Vast plethora of snow.

Wings of yore

Embrace the light

Once long lost.

No morrow shall dawn.

Longing for those times that won’t ever come again.