Song of Death and Glory

A Poem By Shane // 4/12/2006

“Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.

With weary eyes and tired feet.
There did I and the Stranger meet.

Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.

Standing still like in a dream.
I look up and see my King.

Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.

And should I run like birds in flight.
I should see the City of Light.

Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.”

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