brave. 

when the cold wind is calling

and the sky is clear and bright

musty mountains sang and beckoned

lead me out into the light

i will ride, i will fly

chase the wind and touch the sky

i will fly

chase the wind and touch the sky

where darkness hides secrets

and mountains are fierce and bold

deep waters hold reflections

of times lost long ago

i will hear their every story

take hold of my own dream

be as strong as the seas are stormy

and proud as an eagle's scream

i will ride, i will fly

chase the wind and touch the sky

i will fly

chase the wind and touch the sky

and touch the sky

chase the wind, chase the wind

touch the sky

the last petal

the last petal danced,
dimly illuminated in the pale moonlight.
like an weightless owl feather,
she has seen the light.

by the gentle breeze it was led,
the last petal, a song it sang.
down by the river's flowing waters,
it softly lands.

the last petal, the last of the white rose.
the stalk, lone and strong.

the last petal, the white swan saw.
her tear fell as she spread her wings.

the last petal,
she now was free.

once, a treasure barsoomed,
twice, a cliff edge lingers.

interesting encounters,
and brief wonders.

steals the stale nights,
of fish, of scorpions,

yet nothing,
albeit nothing,
21 guns.

different paths,
varied steps,
somebody still misses somebody...
despite believing that there're no exceptions.
somebody.
someone.
no one.
no exceptions.
simplicity.

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