The howling wind calls my name

As I shed my identity,

Just as snakes shed their skins.

The forest and the skies call to me

As I pass them by.

Barefoot in the road of rushing waters

Sent from the mountain pass,

I turn as the wet road turns

Into the wilderness.

How I long to run as the stag does,

Darting in and out of sight.

How I wish to fly as a bird,

Either a Raven or a Crow.

I would fly at night

Never seen by passersby.

And as the night ends

And the sun rises,

I will fall dead from the sky,

And the wet frozen waters from the road I once walked on,

Will carry me forever, until I am sent back

By the turn of the tides.