Return to me that which is lost.
Be it now or mid-winter's frost.
My template of water and stone.
My pen of tooth and bone.
My parchment of fine, soft sand,
and my heart you hold in your hand.
Template of water and stone,
To lay the foundation.
Pen of tooth and bone,
to enkindle a population.
Parchment of fine soft sand,
to wash away my proclamation.
My heart you hold in your hand,
to begin the cycle of restoration.