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Tuesday 8 May 2007

A voice from the void


Cold, dark Babylon
O the misery!
My soul was screaming for release
The design would not let me be
How was I to break free
My wings were clipped
The phoenix couldn't rise
I was cursed in the eyes
The witnesses, the many
It was I but it was not I

I watched through the ages
As history did lie
Not the victor
The vanquished
I found a way to die
To rest

To later return
Hidden under a veil
Frustrated
For so much had changed
All hints of my power had gone

And so to the present day
Awash with anger
I prepare to fly
To recover my standard
Somehow
Before as a mortal once more
I die