Hush; I will sing you an old tale of the sea, As my mother and my mother's mother did for me, Hearken, of how our ancients' ceaselessly heard A string of most familiar words, Take my hand, Risen, I'll heed your command! I gift you sweet life, And beg you, be mine wife! We took their offerings in glee, Now treasure their bones under the lee

I charge into white like a fearless knight, pushing back winter with all of my might. I carve out roads where none could be seen, a roaring blade in a frozen scene.

I'll give the news on a breeze, but no more. If you want to look above, hear my caw. What am I?

A figure in white stands solemnly alone The emotions he expresses are never his own They’re formed by another, an artisan, in haste Before the materials leave from this place. Sometimes he’s plain, sometimes adorned And when he is gone he’s not usually mourned. He has just one brief moment in the sun Before he expires and his time here is done.

The lion rules the plains, It truly is the baddest. But one day it got lost, Because the jungle is ?