Like a hawk I’m hanging in the wind watching
the waves come in, the uncharacteristic
silence of this place tells me the
magic will begin as soon as
I am between sleep and
awake in that state I
long to be in and all
the hills and
dales
we passed
during the day
I will visit in the night
when all spirits take flight
and I can sing basso profondo
with all my might and no one will hear
me in these barren mountains where mankind
does not go and wander off for fear of getting lost
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