This eternal white as far as the eye can see Remnants of eras long forgotten Memories faded into the depths of mystery Can I recover them?
I raise my head and breathe in deep Words of the old ones fall to me As snow on the mountain I know this is how it should be The long sleep of winter
This eternal white as far as the eye can see Remnants of eras long forgotten Memories faded into the depths of mystery Can I recover them?
I raise my head, so far I see Tranquillity... The lake of death Grasping the purity within
I shall rise, if not for long To wither here in my final place of peace
No better place to glare upon one last time I smile, I cry I blissfully let go
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep But I have promises to keep And miles to go before I sleep.”
Excerpt from the Robert Frost (1874-1963) poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
