Beneath the autumn trees that sway with auburn hue,
Beneath the gilded leaves that laugh on silver bough,
Beneath the roots that never knew,
The sunlight shine or taint of plow.

Beneath the prizes of the land that lay in beauty raw,
Beneath the remnants of the ones who came aeons before,
Beneath the raging fire of flaw,
To purify her ferric core.

There lies a heart of molten girth.
That's been companion since our birth
To every life that's come or past,
And every life that's lived to die.