If you think the forest is a mystic place for relaxing
then you are wrong. the forest of Koppigen.
I've been told. this story began on cloudy summernight.
the night before the storm Before the storm began to break
I walked slowly through this place
leaves whispering in the clouds of trees
it's 1998 and lightning craks near Before the storm. it's 1998 and I feel fear But now, I am struck by a bolt,
deep in my brain, deep in my memories
lost alone in the storm surrounded by lightning
caught in my body and my soul I feel my body to decompose,
just a little angel pose
climbing plants grab me by the hands.
down in a hole I wake up, I can't hear the sound of the freeway
where, where, where in God's name am I?
awake in a land filled with scents,
where the good old sagas have been told
from far away a rider comes to me
I think I know him. Kurt was his name back in 1298.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
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