The first plain
An island far away
Mothers chains reduce an ache to sand and sea
Wont you plant your feet
Raise my fleet,
Leaving the seas to my embrace
Teptorro
Sifting the skies
An unseen turn
Swallows the seas.
Wallowing in fiery cries
Watched by unburned eyes
Earth
A child is conceived
Whilst never being born.
By his wrath and his alone
You shall meet the horn.
This is how it is and will be