ODE TO OUR LORD OF THE MOUNTAIN

– spferdberg

Winged you stand
On top of the hill,
The glowing river beneath your feet.

The eternal streams,
That fall from the hill,
You watch over them, day and night.

Without them we’d thirst,
And our crops would be bleak,
But you bless the streams, and we see it.

With firm grip you hold
The torch high and bold,
That enlightens the town we recieved.

Bless the villagers with hope!
They’ll fight in the swamp,
Faithful they’ll have what they need.

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