In my hallowed keeps I roam
Never knowing if the path I'm on is right or wrong
Only discovering when I step on
It is both and none,
Libraries of old
Holding stories never told
Walking the halls and rows
My cup overflows
As I drink from what I've always known,
My soul is busting these bones
I know I'm heading home
The compass points north
To the lands in which I've grown
As my journey grows
I write the unseen and untold
For anyone to see
It's time the stories are told
The oracles speak and minds are set free
Settle down and listen
To the Storyteller who has come to wake you from sleep.