Black with a sheen of silver-gray

The water spreads beyond our sight

And tangled with the waning sun

It sways into the misted night.

Laughter mingles with our blood

Far from home, our trek is long

Seeing far and knowing much,

We rest and sing our feasting song.

We drift, and miles fall away

Beneath our feet, behind our eyes

Crystal mountains rise and fall

And twisting fire, on bright wings flies.

Stone surrounding, rain ahead,

Years that bind us, talk is done

So when we leave, we’ll always have

Midnight with the orange sun.