Gazing at the landscape, after all youll find my fellows there, on the tranquil traces of my white, clear land. No need to fear opening the gates to travel, it comes so nearly to make you feel the glorious side Feeling free, diving into times youll never forget, hunger for freedom, in the silence of wintery nights, spirits herald. The wind comes The light looses significance, throughout the night Owl singing the dead song inside the forest of dusk uncontrolled desire rising from above the heart strength is near to haunt you Coming to touch your soul. Heed to the harmonious song of wise owl. All fear fading away. By hearing the hoarse cry. Take a look as the mighty wind will bring the flood washing your pain takes your sorrow to far away face of the old trees glorifying the land Calls to spirits made before you time for joining with the long breeze of day when the wind scars the bleached faces, of the snowy land, cold scent of the wind, brings the truth from behind different sides. Hear them calling for precious spirits to fly dreaming the truth sets your soul free takes your body once breathing the death surrounds you
owl, wind, spirit, land, wintery