where few explorers dare to go.
You showed me the chain that held you there.
It's a hell of a thing to know.
Without some fear of dying,
without the threat of deathly snow.
No hope or seed could ever grow.
The Master's served well from the realm below.
A starry cross pointed the way.
I admit I was ill prepared
To meet a beast for whom I cared.
For my own good, I let you go.
A starry cross pointed the way.
I admit I was ill prepared
To meet a beast for whom I cared.
For my own good, I let you go.
No comments:
Post a Comment