Words settle like dust upon my soul
Written well before my heart’s
Awakening, engraved while yet this
Life of mine was but a song
Of songbirds in the sky
I am but a walking verse
Lips and tongue describe me
As bards cherished the tales they’ve sung,
This epic, so long ago begun,
Takes root now, growing inside the warmth
Of fate’s sweet sun, as I tarry off to grow
Within my destiny….
There’s nothing left to question, the tale
Is already spun… what is now is but a
Task to walk upon the road
And fulfill the feats designed for me.