

Mourning GloryThe glory of the morning light Which brings mourning of the night The last midnight would die softly The birth of light is the death of night Of the enchanting moon that holds the magic of lifeMourning Glory
Souls of the parted dance once again The angels bless the bones of the silenced The sleepers awaken They are the guardians of this earths' memoirs They guard the past of pain, war, hate, joy and laughter They leave memories on the lips of those left behind and bathed in the light They caress the shadows that envelop the world The ancient ones Yet they are not immortal