Beyond the garden, past the gate, Where crooked branches twist with fate, Two wandering boys beneath the moon Were swallowed by the woods too soon. Through amber leaves and silver mist, They traced a path no map had kissed. The lanterns faded one by one, As daylight drowned beneath the sun. Wirt kept his silence, cold and grim, While Greg laughed brightly beside him. “Fear not the forest, fear not the night— Perhaps the dark will treat us right.” But deeper still the shadows grew, And every tree seemed staring through. The wind recited ancient lore, Of things that knock on no man's door. A distant wheel began to cry, A hollow hymn beneath the sky. And where the wandering shadows crawl, There stood an old and crooked mill. Oh, into the Unknown we stray, Where dying stars have lost their way. Through whispered woods and fields of grey, The night consumes the light of day. Oh, into the Unknown we roam, Two little ghosts without a home. And though the blackened branches call, Don't turn your back upon the wall. The mill stood tall beneath the moon, Its broken wheel a funeral tune. A lonely flame began to sway, As something watched from far away. The timber groaned, the shadows spun, The tale had barely yet begun. For every road that leads within May hide a beast beneath the skin. Turn not! Look not! Beyond the trees! The darkness knows What no man sees! The wheel turns... The old woods breathe... And something waits Beneath the leaves! Oh, into the Unknown we stray, Where dying stars have lost their way. If night should steal the road from sight, We'll chase the dawn through endless night. Oh, into the Unknown we roam, Through haunted fields so far from home. Two wandering hearts beneath the moon— And somewhere, something sings our tune. The garden sleeps... The forest knows... The road is gone... And onward goes...
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