Endless grief and sorrow,
Hearts slumbering again

How long has it been since he last visited Serenes? A thousand years at least – far too many to count. In that time, rivers have shifted course, earthquakes have cut ravines in the earth, and mountains have risen from plains. Civilizations have sprung up and withered away, great empires have united the land and fallen apart, and in the midst of it all was him. Unchanging. Un-aging.

Stars frozen in their place…

Like Lehran, the forest has remained unchanged.

It is the same as the day he first laid eyes on it. There, the emerald waters of an ancient lake shimmers in the sunlight, and the heron remembers delighting in the clean coolness of it sliding down his throat. He remembers sitting on the moss-covered rock beside the pool and turning to his goddess – taste the water, it is sweet – and marveling at her creations.

In a reflection in the water
In a whisper in the wind

The trees whisper to him now, tell him tales of the hardships they have endured. They recount in a pained rustling of their leaves how the fires had scorched their bark and stripped away their foliage and how they had despaired. They speak of a white prince with a heart full of hate, and a beautiful princess they had protected for years. Lehran knows how the tale goes. He knows that the songs of his people(which he can sing no longer) have healed the ravaged forest, turning blackened brittle wood and crumbling ash back into verdant green life. The Galdr of Rebirth is among the most potent of the herons' songs, as evidenced by the sprawling acres of resurrected forest.

Gather your courage

He is lying on the ground of the forest half-curled, long hair spilling like ink through the grass and wings spread across the dirt. He has not used his wings in centuries, and their weight on his back is both familiar and uncomfortable. They are heavy, clumsy from disuse: a burden, for what use are wings to a laguz who cannot transform? The prince and princess skirt his wings cautiously, singing the same song they had sung to the dead trees not long ago.

It will break the bonds of night

His soul is only one, and nowhere as large as a forest, but not all the galdr in the world can restore it to its former state. Long centuries have worn it ragged and thin, like old and abused cloth, and loss has left holes punched into the fabric. Few of them are patched, and the ones that are have been sewn badly, the threads a twisting, writhing mess. He is mostly emptiness now, with what few threads of his spirit that remain being warped beyond recognition. But as the song washes over him, his dark wings no longer feel as if they weigh heavy as sin and the great gaping emptiness in his soul fills ever so slightly.

It's a start.

Take wing, and dance upon the sky…

This didn't come out quite like I wanted it, but I decided to post it anyway. Sorry if some parts seem unpolished. :(
The italics are the translated lyrics of the Galdr of Rebirth. I left out a few lines.