The Fugitive
img img The Fugitive img Chapter 100 No.100
100
img
  /  2
img

Chapter 100 No.100

I ask no reward for the songs I sang you. I shall be content if they live through the night, until Dawn, like a shepherd-maiden, calls away the stars, in alarm at the sun.

But there were moments when you sang your songs to me, and as my pride knows, my Poet, you will ever remember that I listened and lost my heart.

            
            

COPYRIGHT(©) 2022