Some are born to heal – and some are born to fail – like trees these fates twist around each other – like wolves their howls resound when no others speak – Alone and lain in leaves – the body of the failed shaman tries to be still – hoping to be unnoticed in the night – waiting for the whispers – the twin trees speak or so he’s told – listening for anecdotes that mirror his own – and silence keeps him trembling – and silence gets him running back – ‘twas the words of the sickened souls – that broke his grasp on the healing path – he tried to clean their wounds – tried to sing the demons out – and they all kicked him to the ground – and they all fled as he became infected – “Brother!” he cried – “Where are you now if not in my eyes? What love do I guard if I no longer feel love at all? What is this force driving my dagger through their necks? Am I deserving to hear your voice in mine Guiding me to resolve To lay this old dagger down & end the war with self-incineration?
“Brother can you see me now? I’ve become so hideous Instinct to preserve the sacred begins To turn the blade towards my own chest Tell me can you heal me now?”
And no divine voice is heard And healing is forgottenTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
