Lyrics
At fifteen years he walks the wood,
Where quiet, misty shadows stood.
His glowing daggers, blue and green,
A black bow of faint light is seen.
A ghostly white tiger by his side,
With violet stripes and longer stride.
Five feral bears they leave behind,
A steady, quiet pace to find.
The boy steps quick, the tiger long,
They learn a rhythm, safe and strong.
The morning sun is pale and cold,
A quiet friendship growing bold.
Without a backward look or care,
They walk until the mist takes the bears.
A hemp snare hides beneath the fern,
A deadly trap at every turn.
The tiger's heavy paw will lift,
The hunter's open hand is swift.
An open hand on ghostly white,
His green blade cuts the cord from sight.
He hides the hemp beneath the mold,
Their steady pacing taking hold.
Far from the dragons' hearth of stone,
He knows he does not walk alone.
The phantom steps around the scar,
Two equal friends who travel far.
The boy steps quick, the tiger long,
They learn a rhythm, safe and strong.
The morning sun is pale and cold,
A quiet friendship growing bold.
Without a backward look or care,
They walk until the mist takes the bears.
A cut cord in the quiet space...
They walk and keep a shared pace.