---

I am a wanderer,

following a hidden path,

known only to those

who have not forgotten the world that was.

I envisage vast wilderness,

a sacred realm

unspoiled by modern man.

My path is lined with ancient alders.

They lead me through

black moors and misty fields.

I learned to think like a mountain.

I learned to speak a language older than words.

I learned to see with eyes unclouded by greed.

Bow down to Gaia,

bow down to Mother Earth.

My goddess, she in her I trust,

my fortress, my hightower,

my shelter, my shield,

my eternal love

and my one true home.

In my dreams I behold

a world falling apart.

Not a single black wolf

is preparing for the sacred hunt.

A white stag is bleeding out

far from the forgotten glade.

In my dreams I behold

a world falling apart.

Here is nothing

but eternal silence.

No birds are singing.

No seeds are sprouting.

I hang my head in shame.

Is this the bitter truth?

Do I secretly wish for the death of man?

My goddess, she in her I trust,

my fortress, my hightower,

my shelter, my shield,

my eternal love

and my one true home.

Bow down to Gaia,

bow down to Mother Earth.