Out into the clouds doth life behold

Of all the history still untold

The mist flies up into the sky

And the stories of the times go by

Lightning strikes atop the trees of history

And the memories of the trees disappear; a mystery

The winds bring up all of the kin

The people remember not a thing of their origin

The less the burden, the least they know

A life's travels of a series long ago

But there's one left; one for show

There's always the thoughts of the snow

So pure and bright it is even at night

It's what can be known as the great light

He they knew for millennia and more

He's waiting for more to come to the door.

Again he will come to bring what's left

The memories of them all swiped; a theft