The Brave Seer
You stand tall on the hill. Your staff is high. The cold wind stops.
The shadow breaks like soft mist. It is gone.
Down below, the village sings your name. You cannot see their smiles. But you feel them, warm as the sun on your face.
You stand tall on the hill. Your staff is high. The cold wind stops.
The shadow breaks like soft mist. It is gone.
Down below, the village sings your name. You cannot see their smiles. But you feel them, warm as the sun on your face.