Cold as the northern winds, in December Mornings. Cold is the cry that rings, from this far distant shore. Winter has come too late. Too close beside me. How can I chase away all these fears deep inside. Course: I'll wait the signs to come. I'll find a way. I will wait the time to come. I'll find a way home. My light shall be the moon and my path - the ocean. My guide - the morning star, as I sail home to you. Course Who then can warm my soul? Who can quell my passion? Out of these dreams - a boat. I will sail home to you.
http://glauxberg2.blogspot.com.br/2014/02/flamel-or-paracelso-could-understand.html
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