The sound of your soul is a wild one, child.

To which places you will go,

Only time

Will tell.

But as you look at me with round,

Round eyes.

Curious eyes;

I know it is true:

You were made for better

Better than this.

So go forth,

My dear.

Go forth,

My strong.

The desert seeks your wisdom.

The moon it wants your signs.

You were not made for this land,

Child.

Swim,

And do not

Look back.

Run.

For the sound of your soul,

Is a wild one,

Child.

Do not waste it,

On time

You do not have.