The healer

Day after day I write my life story

In eyes of druids, on river benches. 

Filling up tree leaves with scribbles and worries
Walking with back full of stuck clenches

Touches
Forbiden sound
Silent wish
Night

Tears, as my pen, jumping on paper
Tree shavings secretly form friendly face
To tell me who I am, to fit me in shaper
To let me know to fight in grace

Alone
Heals
Taking chances
Breath

Who am I, the one of green-eyed elves?
Spawning my chants to precize portions
Forgetting reason of forgotten empty shelves
Places, where I used to store my potions

Conflict
Burst
Running heart
Hand

What is the reason of me being here
This war has damaged my body to dust
Soldiers of Arthas trembling with fear
Hands of desperate need, heal! Help! I must...

Trust
Responsibility
Terror breath
Sword

Giving my life source to heal the fighters
Who kill another and circle goes round
Oh what's the reason my fellow nighters
To feel the power? To hear the hero bells sound?

Revelation
Tranquility
Mind of the nature
Trees

Leaves are slowly rising, hugging in screams
Hand reaches towards me asking for shield
On view of blood and desperate dead dreams
I cry and heal and cry on this frozen battlefield

Fight
Peace
Ice bites
Silence

Loosing on snow, where nothing green grows
Few creatures heads, a dragonkin lutra
Last breath of human, eyes filled with crows
"Remember me, my name is..."