Haunting mirages from the dark centuries
On the other side of the window.
My hot breath clouds it over
And I lose focus.
Lost alphabets calling to us,
To ressurrect the forgotten,
Sew up the tear between time
And renewal.
Read the stones, the ancient lines,
Lead us away from man unkind
Summon the shepherd who can find,
the way out to the way in,
So we can end now, and again begin.
the Red Road is open,
But the trail is cold,
Footprints fossilized,
Wisdom grown old.
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