there lies an island green and fair
amid the sea of loss
with surging hills and valleys lush
with birdsong and the scent of spring
where elven song fills the blue hour
and morning mists with awe
where forests tall with silver bark
stand firm above the sea
sheltering bluebells on unfading grass
green since the eldest days
two wells of tears
spring into silver stream
cascading over rocks
joined to the island's roots
into the lotus lake
all tender and serene
eye to the ground of sky
gleaming in violet flame
falling from height's eternity.
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