by: Belathra Baerlow date: Early 15th Century DR source: Death Masks The rolling roads yawn through red dusk and dawn, Its pathway is rough, yet we travel on. Through mountain heights and forests dark with shade, The wayfarer walks through boulder and blade. [Chorus] You must be brave Face the terror The road she calls the Wayfarer. Yet when peace reigns and men grow fat and proud, And sneering and lazy and ever more loud, Then do the rumors leap up and start to bubble, Men talk of darker plots, easy coin, and trouble. Through valleys deep where shadows long do creep, The echoes warn of dangers that still sleep. Yet steadfast hearts will hold the looming darkness back, The wayfarer strides forth, the leader of the pack. [Chorus] You must be brave Face the terror The road she calls the Way Fair-er. The stars above light paths that twist and turn, Through storm and drought, the brave must live and learn. The wayfarer knows, though their trials lie ahead, Better to wear out your boots than die in your bed. [Bridge] The road is harsh, You must be bold, Through blazing heat, and bitter cold. With every step, a story yet untold, A tale of strength, of bravery, and gold. Though paths may fade, this is a journey without end, The true wayfarer knows that the road's a good friend. [Chorus] You must be brave Face the terror The road she calls the Way Fair-er. The road she calls... the Wayfarer.
