3The elves are singing, calling me
Rising, falling, luring song
Wraps me within its silken throng
I have no choice but to go on…
I pass the bold and silent trees
I hear at last their whispered pleas
'The Ancient Ones fade with the years,
Save us, ere time kindles fears…'
I have no choice but to go on…
They glow and light the path I seek
A fairy's wing brushes my cheek
Then turns to dust and coats the ground
Soft murmurs of regret resound
I have no choice but to go on…
Sadly sighing, mournful breeze
Is laden now with dragon's pleas
Her piercing melancholy tone
Summons the kin she lost ere grown
I have no choice but to go on…
Before me lies the silver pool
In which I drowned and rose anew
Memories of elven kin
And songs of sorrow ache within
Lest I fade I must go on…