Time past away doesn’t come back, nor does lost glories….
I lived in a forest
and enjoyed the
whispering dawn,
what to say I do
not know,
the trees were old,
to me they were
more precious than gold,
but linger it did not….
Came the monsters
with the axes in their hands;
came the pitiless
with greed in their hearts.
The animals were killed,
the trees were cut,
only I remained
to sing of that wonderful
gone Greenland.
September, 2024
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