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Lost Paths Of Unicorns
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Galadriel
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A breeze is tearing down the leaves of the trees (That are) falling asleep in the colors of Fall Again, I can hear that strange beat of the Earth That melancholy neigh and sorth of the nostrils The strokes of hoofs sound again over the land I can see them again galloping gracefully Their blowing white manes, a tender sharp horn on their brow Only a virgin could touch their grace And feel the touch of their eyelashes in her palm Just today, when I'm scrolling across the forest And that ancient touch is warming my palms Just today, I'm trying to find the traces of UNICORNS As if their traces were still warm But those paths have been overgrown with grass For a long time...
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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