In divination she sees
My death cycle
Moss on a mountain
Thick and green to
Brittle and lonely
All parts of me together
We climb, we leave
Only knowing, feeling
A shining channel of
The pure, chosen path
In divination she sees
My death cycle
Moss on a mountain
Thick and green to
Brittle and lonely
All parts of me together
We climb, we leave
Only knowing, feeling
A shining channel of
The pure, chosen path