[Verse 1] Up on the northern hill she stays, stone walls humming forgotten ways. The abbey breathes in twilight’s glow, and keeps the truths no lights dare show. Her windows bloom with dying gold, her steps turn winter into cold. Each door she crosses, old or new, remembers her—as shadows do. [Verse 2] She owns the mill, the shops, the square, the hospital left to winter’s care. A velvet hand for those she feeds, yet bends the town the way wind leads. Her wealth is quiet, never shown— a kingdom carved in undertone. Those renting roofs beneath her name feel blessings mixed with gentle blame. [Refrain] Oh Elara, Lady fair, woven from the winter air. Eyes that read what none confess, lips that never whisper less. Oh Elara, veiled in grace— the ruler time forgot to trace. [Verse 3] Her halls stretch wide in crooked lines, their shifting walls erase designs. A garden sleeps beneath her dome, older than the town’s first home. Its blossoms burn in ruby flame, and open only at her name. The scierie groans in midnight’s call— and lights blink once inside the hall. [Refrain] Oh Elara, Lady fair, woven from the winter air. Grace that bends the bravest knee, hush that roots the ancient tree. Oh Elara, crowned and wise— a kingdom breathing in her eyes. [Bridge — murmuré] “Can truth drown deep in wells of stone? What ghosts may bloom where moonlight’s grown?” [Verse 4] She walks the market’s silent street, the cobbles freezing under feet. And Aeryn Lowe, with lowered sight, greets her like one greets a blight. She is the hush before the storm, the mother of what won’t conform; the pulse beneath the town’s thin skin, the hand that shapes what stirs within. [Final Refrain] Oh Elara, sovereign flame, the town is written in your name. Your shadow gives the ridge its breath— your silence wakes the sleeping death. Oh Elara, crowned in night… the abbey bows to your soft light.
