Lyric Lost Paths Of Unicorns

A breeze is tearing down the leaves of the trees
(That are) falling asleep in the colors of Fall

Again, I can hear that strange beat of the Earth
That melancholy neigh and sorth of the nostrils

The strokes of hoofs sound again over the land
I can see them again galloping gracefully
Their blowing white manes, a tender sharp horn on their brow

Only a virgin could touch their grace
And feel the touch of their eyelashes in her palm
Just today, when I m scrolling across the forest
And that ancient touch is warming my palms

Just today, I m trying to find the traces of UNICORNS
As if their traces were still warm
But those paths have been overgrown with grass
For a long time...