A Distant World

A golden disc makes its way under the fading scarlet,

Above the jagged edges of the shadow giants,

While down below winding veins flow their way through the darkness,

And the trees, with ancient limbs, they pray in silence.

It was long ago that we could hear the silence,

We could taste the wind and feel the silver starlight,

We would shower in the early shades of sunrise,

And the trees, with ancient limbs, we prayed beside them.

Now we turn away from the sounds of silence,

We cover our eyes with glowing sheets of brightness,

We hide ourselves within flat and steel horizons,

And the trees with ancient limbs they pray in silence.

A golden disc makes its way under the fading scarlet,

Above the jagged edges of the shadow giants,

While down below winding veins flow their way through the darkness,

And the trees, with ancient limbs, they pray in silence.