Seven Glorious Ones,
Are searching for our Tin!
Across seven vast ages,
Though here’s where we’ll begin.
And those twinkly-ones appear,
Stare from the painted haze…
Those ‘eyes’ attract, erratic mind…
Tin settle’s on their gaze.
Run Tin! Run! Her falling velvet,
Stag-man hangs now on horizon,
Hunter’s purpose, -rage!
Mourn the loss, Oh brave Tin,
Brave hero Tin, -seven dancing on your grave.