• People ask why I travel.
    Their questions seem pointless and wasteful.
    The cobblestones are now dirt and the forest in gone.
    Farmers say hello as they harvest the apples.
    I just smiled a fake smile and walk on.
    The days have past on and I sleep endless dreams.

    Dreams of home.
    Dreams of Twilight.
    Dreams of the faithful dance.
    Dreams of that tapestry.
    Dreams upon dreams.

    Will you be at the temple?
    Will you wear the robe?
    Will you take my hand once again?
    Will you Windra?