Cryptic Epistle

Where the rocks are sicked
into the morning sky,
where your whisper's mixed
with the echo of my cry...
Where the mountain waterfalls
are the tears of the beast,
who will save the suffering souls
of the rich, the poor, and the priest...

Where the nature is so cruel
to kill the sinner and the fool,
it is written on my stones
with human dust and bones -
I will be the queen of stars
when Venus reconciles to Mars.

Where the gold has no price,
I will need no words
to speak no wrongs, no lies,
I'll fly with other birds...
When the roses stop to fade
and the madman is the king,
there won't be blood on the blade
and your freedom I will bring...

They live their life in vain
the ones who are insane!
This din must die away!

Where I can drink the rain,
the secrets of my spell are kept
away and saved from pain,
from the past we might regret...
An oracle of mystic runes
gave me providence and faith
to fight and see them soon -
the things we'll change
to a better way...