3Surpass the South in might,
But all the wisdom of their strikes
Can never bring them flight.
Upon the East, a candle burns
That tells some hidden truths.
Among them are the pains of joy,
The secrets of life's rues.
It burns the flame of Southern hate,
For fire reigns its planes.
Yet all the fire of the torch
Can never be humane.
Upon the South, a fragrance floats
That smells of great decay.
It tells the world of ignorance,
The power of the fray.
The fragrance calls upon the West,
Where magic lives and thrives.
There is wisdom valued greatly,
And ignorance despised.
Upon the West, a ritual
Is held to bless the Earth.
It tells of fault, error, and death.
It tells of human birth.
The ritual makes mad the North,
For frigid bliss makes hate.
All the north is cold wasteland
Where love is mere albeit.
Upon the North, a freezing rain
Falls down upon the ice.
It shares the secrets of despair,
For it knows avarice.
And in-between and all around
The wisdom of the Earth,
There lives the race of man condemned
To hide themselves from mirth.
We'll never know the Eastern wind,
We'll never douse the flame,
We'll never taste the fragrance sweet,
Nor we the West will shame.
But they are there, and there they'll stay,
For wisdom fears us not.
Among them, there is peace to make
If our ways are forgot.