Silence touches the Golden Lands,
the years just melt away,
stripping ribbons of gold and black
away from the land of pity.
Can you touch the sun?
Feel its radiance burn?
Pity falls on those who tried
to conquer the fair way,
that flourished and settled
across the gold topped meadow.

Sweet couples with flowers in their hair
copulate and wave their feelings there,
haunting the moon back into hiding
behind the clouds of silver flare.
They cast a frown upon the time
that settles in the mountain range,
haunting the trolls who gather there...
tying flowers in their own tangled hair.
Shrieking at the humans
who mock and steal their children,
who will never again
enter the Golden Lair.

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