A world of the past

There is a small country town that I once knew Though I had stayed there I was just passing through I had watched the waters as they deftly churned I watched the mountains as they slowly burned Then I packed my bag and I never returned Was a girl in that country that I had loved But I watched from afar as she soared above Her nature was free and she was ever bold Her life was a story that's never been told She was a girl that I was not born to hold Well, summer is over, the grass is not green Yet the sky is as blue as far as it is seen But the winds will soon blow in from the east And bring in a winter born of the beast The best we can hope for is to be released Tomorrow's out yonder, so far from our reach And out there are the lessons that no one can teach The one that is not free will remain enslaved He will cry forever that he should be saved Yet one day on stone his name will be engraved Then sometimes at night when I am at my rest I recall those suffering and pray they be blessed If we meet in my dreams, I'd ask her how she's been If I pass his stone, I'll bow to the one within As for that country town, I might just pass through again