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Silver hair
The tale is the trick of a heir
The void cannot be full of blood
Arms and hands, legs and heads.
The head is full of electric storms;
We wish our foes to be beheaded.
Colours fill the extensive world of joy
Or the gravy scales of doubt and envy.
Knives crossed about a troy ounce rand,
In the end she had to lend her central land.
The strength is inside like a dragon
Beauty, kindness, but also discipline
An aura of the long girl’s silver hair
A divine force against human despair.
No decadent society loses its charm.
No coerced one gives up of freedom.
No deeds or words can avoid insanity
As it’s a posteriori judgement by history
Which is the tale and the trick of winner
Told in such a way so it chooses the sinner.
So hail to the silver hair, heir of power
Higher than the gods can aspire
Show us you really truly inspire
And in any case, my dear, true is ours.
Could I be a falcon I’ll fly straight till fall.
Dive into summer, so that would be all.
As one rise, another dive, not a surprise.
