A running man in a place of green
high walls blue, arch as the sky.
A stop to think, a glance to see,
and onwards he runs, his goal unknown.
Metallic sits the mind of that which runs
the connection to another world.
Brightly shining as a star in motion
againsts silver cases and guzzling cords,
it lays upon the icey brown
and ponders where the man shall dance.
Wind doth blow, an empty place
a mystery uncertain, danger remains.
A thought is creeping, an ability measured,
a scratch of head makes the world return.
Ghostly shining, a wonderment of glass.
What is this that asks my name?
A creature unknown but of eyes unstirring
and a sorrow unbending. I weep for it.
What be my name, I wonder this.
What be my calling, of words and wine.
This I shall answer, to all who ask:
I am a being of fire and rain.