The prophecy of the old monks
Where did all their books and spells remain?
I'm dying I'm looking for my power, but I can't find anything
I've longed for Neither love, not desire, only the reflection of my power
Come back, my idea, come back my magic
It's last time you saw the star-light
Come back my idea, come back my magic,
Come back my child to my arms The long journey is waiting for us