• Creation

    Red blood
    Is spilt
    Upon the Earth
    Sacred
    Red clay
    There from birth
    The sons
    Who strive
    To part the lovers
    With Papa below
    And Rangi above us
    The light
    Was gone
    But now it shines
    For now
    The Earth
    Is seperate from Skies
    The night
    Is over
    At long last
    The passion
    Of lovers
    Is in the past.