The prophecy
sometimes our fate is already written for us
High on a rocky outcrop of stone Where earth meets the sky and the gods are forgotten ghosts He stands his ground on a mountaintop in a far off land A self imposed exile cut off from man Vigilant gaze sweeping the valley floorHe waits for the one prophesied to come Given this task when his heart was young His duty to guard from harm the one who is to come Last of his kind he sits his vigil alonefinal warrior of the eldest...
