In the middle of a meadow in the white moonlight,
Lay a white lily swaying through the night.
In the soft summer breeze and the cool moon rays,
The petals opened which had been closed for days.
Then out of the blue, in the white moonlight,
A sound was heard like the crack of light.
Then from the sound came white hot rays,
Hotter than every one of the summer days.
And after the sound and heat had cleared,
Came a sight the white lily feared.
All around the meadow in the red moonlight,
Was the scarlet witch burning bright.