RUSHING WIND
©Gary Bowman Once, the Days of Dragon’s Might Like Camelot, Thru prismic light (Prismic light) Rusted swords on barren ground Silent world, No solace found (Solace found) Such the heartless rush of wind That in life’s finite season, I’d not see you again (See you again) Wait for the Dawn When hope is gone We shall carry on Cosmic Dust obscures the Light Gone the Days of Dragons’ Might Their season is the night Now hollow all delight |