Because I'm actually you,
but you've yet to notice
the way that I sneak
and creep through the forest.
And know this you must,
never put trust in
old sages who place
power in numbers.
We are
the oldest of oldest.
Forest ancients
who dwell on the hillsides.
We are
best friends with the soil.
Our god Cephei,
god of the sun.
Our armour bark
hardened like leather.
Our swords they're sharp
light as a feather.
My eyes are good,
my hearing is better.
Our foes they come
like a bull through the heather.
These twisted words they thrash
about my head I want to scream,
but my dual nature seems to
sing to me its all a dream.
My splintered spine it breaks
this time the weighted world it shakes up.
I've never seen this scene.
It seems to me its all a dream.
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