On the Outside of a Dream
Oh I hear the call of the Grove,
The whispers of our wise Pale Tree.
Its calls and its whispers drift on the wind,
Always directed to me.
Out here, outside leaves, time's passage so different,
My perception from shackles unbound.
Tyria's mine, to roam and explore,
And yet back to the Grove I glance round.
I miss the tree, its power and wisdom,
The parent of all sylvari.
Its voice in the air, preventing despair,
I hear its words reaching me.
"Go on," it says, "explore the world,
Let courage be at your side."
"Find your own path, tell your own story,
Wander your life's trail so wide."
Slowly I turn, slowly I gaze,
As if I've awoke from a dream.
I feel the wind, I hear sound of river,
I squint in the light of sunbeams.
But so I head off, away from the dream,
Before me reality lies.
The grass at my feet, a world to explore,
Under blue beautiful skies.