You seek to find Something within yourself That dissipates everything You've ever known There is no Knowledge To be gained without Pain And so you've let Your Sickness grow He was just a Child When he faced the Dream Uncertain of what be beheld It was with Time That he began to see What his Dream could be He grew and gathered To him Men of Three Of Which one was me We set out to alter What was deemed to be Our Destiny Light passed to Night And back again too many Times Reflections spoke to us of Age Our Vision dimmed but his Will was Stone As though he still dreamt of the Day I needed to believe in me But instead I followed he Who was meant to serve Only as a Guide Something I could not see I could not understand Until he died Seasons have passed This Winter it was my last I feel no Sorrow I feel nothing at all Life is just a Poem That must reach its End But I would hear another Verse Before I die Now that my Days are done Spirits let me see It was not the Child who was the One It was me!!