The sun rises on the eastern line,
Stepping forward, never to decline.
The blood moon passes in fleeting grace,
Like western winds in a hurried chase.

Oh, Lady, where are you now?
My longing sings, my heart bows.
Your face so fair, like silk it glows,
Bringing hope that ever flows.

Oh, Lady, return once more,
We miss you deeply to our core.
The scent of orchids lingers still,
Like love that time cannot kill.

Your followers stand strong, unite,
Sworn in loyalty, firm and bright.
Sacred praises rise in song,
Prayers to You, steadfast and long.

We shall wait with patient might,
Till skies collapse and fade from sight.
We shall stay, our faith unshaken,
Awaiting You, our hope unbroken.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Miraman, in the year 967 AF.