In the deep dark of night
or the cold light of day
In the funky green woods
where sugarmice play
The river cries deep
of battles of yore
the river runs red
with the blood and the gore.
Once, in my sleep,
still in a dream
of sugarmice candies
covered in cream
I arose from my bed
all cosy and warm
and found myself walking
toward the cool light of dawn
I followed her voice
so crystal and clear
to the woods and the river
with sugarmice near
to a clearing it took me
the sun hit the ground
but the light that blinded
shone from around
And there in the glow
stood the woman of Might
with a look of love
she kept me in sight
and straight from her head
and right into mine
she sent scenes of the dead
from the battle of time.
The valleys roam green
and the woods stretch free
in the fertile flesh of the land
but the secrets it hides
of the death of all men
were opened that night to me.
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