I'm a wanderer in time.
Forever moving from one place to another.
Fading in and out when I am summoned.
Years pass and the landscape remains the same.
Trees wilt away, and bloom endlessly.
My place is nowhere.
Those who call for me will tire.
The years stretch thinly.
The landscape will one day cease to inspire wonder.
The Trees will wilt away for one final time, and never bloom again.
- Quiet-Emerald