The Island Of Glory

On the island of Glory, I felt the memories, of poor souls left behind, on the battlefield of winning.

On the island of Glory, I heard berries singing, like angels singing alleluia to eveything in the forest of Magnificence.

On the island of Glory, I saw the shrine of glory, powering the place with motivation, at the city of shrine.

On the island of Glory, I found faithless island, felt the village of haunted, saw the Ruins of shame, heard the forest of obscurity.

On the island of Glory, I saw the forest of Z, the trees were growling, and the shrubs were searching for something deep inside.

On the island of Glory, I heard purple-growers singing, like they were at a concert doing their best, in the forest of Magnificence.

On the island of Glory, felt yellow-yappers, and sweet canary waters, going gently at the yellow lake.

On the island of Glory, I found the volcano of honour, heating up the island, like natures radiator.