Letter From Guaril Karela

I stood high ‘pon Beldren’s Bluff,
And gazed out to the west.
Just south of the storm of stone,
Silver Wren sleeps in her nest.
Stole I to her side,
Stole I to her side,
But her fledglings cast in flight.
Past three black whales,
And three black whales,
And half way to the light.
And there, beneath the waters green,
Drowns the maiden without a name.
Still it is her gaze.
That finds refuge in the graves.

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