Carrier Of Wounds

I slumber throught my years, like the desert moves with the wind. Frozen and flickering, the lustful year has met its end. A wanderer I am indeed... ...the son of the moon... and I will carry mountains soon. A burden I was for those who woke the sun. I threw their masks away, lit my torches and burned their eyes. Forgiven I never was. But I will carry mountains soon. A burden, is it not? Kneeling I chose my faith, while they lit the sun, and flew naked and blind over my desert fields.