That Cunning Mask

Melodious mild sunk the crimson sun
Over an earth so fated with harm
Above islands primitive as woes
That sally in the union of those
Who hail the curfewed tear of Taila
By which tear the legend of Taila
And the ancient sun got entangled
A ditty they upheld but mingled
Ditty as harmonious as gusto
Telling of a Zowdor Nemoso
Tussling against the Sissi Nanna
Trampling upon the Zomo Nanna
Even though he conspired with the night
The morning our islands went ablight
History shall spare her sworn fiance
As we mourn the son of Kalante