By Silent Wings

Skepticism

Sweet is the air under the forceful wings
Sharp is the gaze to read
Reflections from distant lakes
Whispers from distant woods
Calls from distant mountains
That brings summonings from the ones
with the swords

Come, carry the seeds
Of storms
Come, satisfy the lust
and the craving
Come, fleet, come
By silent wings


Zdroj: http://zpevnik.wz.cz