Literature
The wanderer (1)
It is on the verge of the abyss,
where cold winds blow,
that I sit in eternal bliss,
unseen by those that are below.
It is on those lonely times
that i didn't know what to believe,
wondering about my crimes,
in the end, i took my leave.
It is in the north where it lies,
beetwen the unknown,
nobler than any prize
awaits my final throne.