And the Maiden raises the swarm-lyre to her hips and sings;


I’d like to show you a land

Where minutes really do understand

Where oceans crash unto the sun

Where remembrance is a forgotten sigh

Where all bad things come to lie


Music reverberates lingering in the zephyr as the Court turns towards the Maiden.


But how do you travel to this land

Please strengthen men to understand

Please steer us away from the sun

Please counsel us towards begotten nigh

Don’t let god-things brawl across the sky




With the sounds fading, the Court turns; facing their smiling King.