Darkness falls from the wings of night.

The fiery shadows flame and fade.

In this lost land that only dreams have known.

Where flaming suns walk naked and alone.

Strange lusters kindle to the rust-enfolded sun.

As gorgeous as the phoenix, born of fire.

In those spaces of fire and light.

Where inner summer holds its reign.

Whose light stains as with blood.

Rays that cross each other like the thrust of swords.

Like suns and eons of immortal wars.

The image re-summons stronger spells and spirits.

With a word whispered in a tongue unknown.

We listen, from beyond the horizon’s rim.

The azure flame of these effulgent skies.

These days shall dawn again in dreams.

In the high trees the darkness grows.

On slopes where fire ravened years ago.