Wings flap and make breeze
It feels like summer again
Dreams fill with laughter
Whispers of the blind
Visions of truth told to man
Deafened by shadows
Through the branches
Toppled by the many truths
Ages are stored here
Golden are the ones
Who travel forward in time
They meet their secrets
Troubled waters wait
Fakes and innocents are shown
Faces of the past
Trombones play the notes
Mothers cry at the marching
Rhythmic notes for death
Treasures are hidden
More than ever do we search
Can't they be for us
Broken they walk through
Days on end taunt the weary
Stolen glances greet
Stationed again here
Travelers from everywhere
Looking for their homes
Scraping for gold dust
The magic of its worth wins
Money held us for long