Vilda Mannu

A great stone of the Ancient ones... It has passed from a father to a son All the years it has been the same... The greatest saint of the northern ways So many storms have passed by So many lives still have to die Before Seita is satisfied And gives

Alone with the questions An outcast for many years He has seen those marble archways And the avenue of crimson tears Now shadows are staring at him But he turns his face away They remind him of his true self Gone with the first winter day Yesterday's

Nightwind's lullaby Like a mother takes care of her children The nightwind cries for her Hear those silent whispers... Like an infant's very first words Light a candle for those who once were And the dreams that never came true Hear the silent crying