Flesh yields easily to a sword
Leaves yield swiftly to a flame
Birds take off when some dark threat
Looms above or hovers near.

Brotherhood and light were once
Living side by side, but now
Riven by chaotic gloom
They are gone from us, departed.

Sparks are dimmed and spirits crushed
Hopeful visions live no longer
Where we were and where we are
Clash in a never-ending dance.

Can it be true that we are past
The point of no return today?
Can it be true that we are too
Far gone for all deliverance?

How will we climb up from this grave
When we can only yearn and yearn
Twenty years from now, our magic
Will lie buried in the earth.

---->A.G. Swanberg, Deoch 7 (from the "Visa Av Svanberg"
"Songs of Swan Mountain")