With Grace کے بول

Where are you, queen of the moon? I've dreamt of mosaic landscapes, and skies full of diamonds Hanging low over valleys In which new life runs thick Where delicate whispers set sail into the wind Assuring that I have found, and become middle earth And centuries will pass and fade at rabid pace For the giving to the soil, we worship the land And this lucid way of rest is how I want to remain Converging to the void, finally passing on Contently, with grace Our sun speaks in tongue unknow to man Our sun speaks in tongue unknow to all