The time they built your nordic wall
They built not high enough
No monumental afterthought
Fits that black accepted glove
And no light highlights honesty
The way you make it shine
Redemption’s flow’s thus deep in you
It dwarfs the wetlong Rhine
And even if they notice not
I will remain, to be
As adamant, as fiery hot
And all these backshots yet may see
The traces of the rot
Though late, too much for all but we
We occupy the fairest spot.
Warmenhoven.