In time bleeding wounds will heal Unlike some which too deep to see Like scars in the Nomads soul Their mending so slow Not a shout of a hundred Can make him feel fear inside him But when sunsets and the cold arrives With crushing solitude in the darkness night
He will ride across land and time find a way through this endless night There s a storm in his And the fire burns his soul But the wanderers part is to ride alone
bare hands he has taken many lives He has had a hundred women by his side From enchanted woods to the freezing North is known at every sea and far beyond As the moon grows and the is complete He lies down and for sleep But there's always a scenery in his mind. Of all that beauty he once left behind