The one they call Healer
How much do you remember,
looking back on all your years?
Do you remember all the sadness?
Do you remember all the tears?
Do you think of all the faces,
that passed through your doors,
or do you let them fade from thought,
like those you killed in war?
Do you think yourself a god,
or know yourself a man?
Do you wish you counted the seconds,
like you counted the children of your land?
How do you let yourself love,
knowing that all things end?
Do they each take a piece with them,
a fading memory that you send?
Do you force their name from your soul,
banished to your halls,
or is your heart as infinite as your stories,
kept within your beck and call?
What do you see from your perch up above?
All of our hate or all of our love?
Are you blind from lessons once learned,
unseeing of the bridges you burned?
Do look to your future with dread,
or for your grave do you yearn?
How must it feel to be the last of your kind,
like freedom or are you alone in your mind?
Can you still feel the hate in y