The book lies beneath,

The willow tree,

In a far-off land,

A land beyond the mortal world,

Where no statue stands.

Embossed with gray and blue,

Many a tear was shed,

When after the threats and violence grew,

The book had turned blood red.

When one brother,

Slew another,

That was where it starts,

When we all loved one another,

Then stabbed them in the heart.

The book was hidden,

Secrets written,

Deep beneath that tree,

Away from where the mortals trod,

So our souls can be set free…