Sitting before the fire
I think about what I saw
In days that were
Written by me
In something more than pain and cobwebs
In autumns that were
The fog in the morning
The wind in my hair
A sea of u200bu200bpure silver
Because there are so many things
Still that I have never seen
In all the forests
br/>There is a different green
I am here, waiting
To hear more voices at my door
In all the forests
There is a different green
Sitting before the fire
br/>I think about what will be
When winter comes
Without springs to contemplate
I would like to live legends from other eras
And I would like to be yet to be born
To see a world that I will no longer know
I only long to hear footsteps that will not return
And knuckles that knock on my door once more
Wake up and not sleep, be born so as not to die
And to know the truth
I only long to walk paths yet to be explored
And fight with a thousand winters in pursuit of the sun to reach
And live in tomorrow with knowledge of yesterday
There is so much to do. ..

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