Woorden: Beatrik. Requiem Of December. The Last Wandering.

I spent my life in faraway dismal places
I came back now, and I?m only waiting to die

May I die down there
Into my forests never forgotten
Covered by a mantle of withered leafs
May my last sigh
To breathe their sweet smell
And may I still hear
The voice of the cold wind
Among that silver trees
For the last time

Let me wonder for the last time
Into my forests never forgotten

I left sure to had abandoned all
I came back now and I?m only waiting to die