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Ghost Voyage
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Blue Fields
Spiralling motions floating on air
Wind blowing gently on my skin
We witness the neverending war
And we are lost in frozen consciousness
Travelling these blue fields of sorrow
I find myself struggling with every step
I can sense the movements of your thoughts
But still blank landscapes are all I can see
I will be the wind on your lips
I will be the river in your shapes
I will be the rain on your hair
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And I will be the blade in your heart
Would you guide me through these lands
Show me where to lay my feet
But please, don't come near
Or we will lose ourselves, perhaps forever
I will be the wind on your lips
I will be the river in your shapes
I will be the rain on your hair
And I will be the blade in your heart
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