The wind is still,
The world is waiting.
No moment passes,
Into the mist.
Change is the only,
Concept that is fleeting.
As it struggles to handle,
It’s own medicine.
The wind is still,
The world is waiting.
No moment passes,
Into the mist.
Change is the only,
Concept that is fleeting.
As it struggles to handle,
It’s own medicine.