That Cunning Mask

Melodious mild sunk the crimson sun Over an earth so fated with harm Above islands primitive as woes That sally in the union of those Who hail the curfewed tear of Taila By which tear the legend of Taila And the ancient sun got entangled A ditty they upheld but mingled Ditty as harmonious as gusto Telling of a Zowdor Nemoso Tussling against the Sissi Nanna Trampling upon the Zomo Nanna Even though he conspired with the night The morning our islands went ablight History shall spare her sworn fiance As we mourn the son of Kalante