3 acessos
with solemn gaze towards the far
gathering remnants of vibrant unease
the sun inert, behind a sullen fog
and still towards eastern shore
the time begone became my northern star
like so many times before
into primeval
with disquiet at hand
the sole ward laden by avowal
and this eve's contrieriety manifest
there alive by midnight wild
the weary guard watches
gathering around
as winds dance upon the nest again
see me in the summer night
among the ones who knew my tale
know me still
for i am returned to where i dwell
brought upon the summit of hope
where tracks blend with echoes of the past
the blooming flora I've come to cherish
extends its fearful hand
how weak my voice among the winds of time
how small my stance, against collosal trends
how feeble my hope in the hands of the maker
(and) how misguided my reason to beg for this
a new setting
And there at the solstice of this animation
to disperse back into the void...