The golden ichor of morning dew,
Dripped off blue leaves of different hue,
Falling to the soft ground below,
To feed the plants that were young and new.
White ravens flew over the bay,
Where the never-ending ocean lay.
It's silver tides lapped against the edge,
Of the purple beaches with its spray.
And over the horizon, the black sun rose,
Bringing black light to all the world knows,
As black iron holding this world together,
Under a red sky, red as a rose.