In vast mists of unending laments
spreads a silence with ominous vigil.
Shattered helms and cloven shields here lie cold
doomed to rust.
No wind blows as snowflakes fall
at these grey grass fields
spring seems to be forever gone.
Yet a flower grew with white petals
so helpless seemed to be but
no wind, no rain, no snow could harm its beauty.
A song was told by elven maids
and sunrays ogle its small green leaves.