With a young and sullen mind

I dress my walls in a heavenly blue

Strike a pose, stoic and tall

As foreign thoughts pass me by

If I met myself

Would I see me as a peasant or a king?

Would I still abide in my own word?

Be my own disciple, hold on to my burden

I take to heart a life giving hymn

With the wake of dawn my weary soul

Will be crowned with light

With me as witness adorned with pride

I will rule over winter draped in blue sky

The night as my kindred the sun my regalia