Misty Moe Magadar, keeper of night;
Cold crystal ice towers, city of white;
Clouds whip and whisper, winds scream and pine;
Cold dread, as slow the sun rises behind.
Moe Mountain, steep ridges, sheer pointed peak;
Travellers ancient, a pathway to seek;
With patterns etched fine in the old twisted rock;
Clutching a key, search sacred a lock.
For treasures lie deep within Moe Magadar;
Lost secrets sought bravely from lands of afar;
The truths of fair sages from kingdoms long gone;
Hidden wisdom trapped, leads the sole keeper on.
Sue Cartwright
Spiral Leaf
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