So we have left behind
The ceaseless change of seasons
Embittered by the inevitable maelstrom
That draws us towards the fields of winter
Where crows burst out in their scornful cries
And our eyes fall on the realm of much prouder
But nevertheless even sadder creatures
The realm of the stormbirds
© PROPHECIES PUBLISHING MARKUS STAIGE; HANSEATIC MUSIKVERLAG GMBH;
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