Mantra thingy

Here in his shrine
That they have forgotten
Here do we toil
That we might remember
By night we reclaim
What by day was stolen
Far from ourselves
He grows ever near to us
Our eyes once were blinded
Now through him do we see
Our hands once were idle
Now through them does he speak
And when the world shall listen
And when the world shall see
And when the world remembers
That world shall cease to be