Hymn To The Sun

To bright palace of gold sun

I fly on flaming steed

to steer my father's god wings.

O please, fulfill my dream.

My queen is the bright-haired sun.

Herald young horse master;

crescendo the dawn chorus;

bow to bronzen pilot;

as Pantheon blessed sky father, fly to the gods:

few mortals have flown on wings.

Fierce idols drive blood sun

through black heavens

so how shall I dream?

I'll weave a new verse

each dawn for you.

I fear I follow illusion.

Is this my final veil?

The mirage of the phoenix

from ash daily arises.