Dizzying fog covers my eyes, i see the tremble in their gaze
My sword has swung it's final time, and shields me from this maze
Truth washes it's waves o'er me from a white foam ocean bed
I hear the spirits as they fight with the roll of the roaring dead
I hear the voices in the breeze, the words ring true into my ear
I get high on the atmosphere, until the fog comes tumbling in...
(from "Ballad of the Wasted Wind")
©2004 Childs/Childs
