A woman stands alone on an island,
The birth of the anointed one, only for The Most Sacred to see.
Beneath the black womb of the damned,
Men made to witness prostrate on fine sands.
Horizon wide hands reach from the heavens,
The sounds of a faux prayer lost in finite forevers.
The apathetic lay too tired to scream and cry,
A line of long drowned worlds covers their eyes.
Some find the beauty in this time of lies,
Yet all I see are stillborn skies.
The light of unknown wonder calls out to thee,
Pulling on my being in their jealousy.
The past funneled for the future's complacency,
Sin soaked oceans birth a false divinity.
Freedom a parasite, into man's heart it clings deeper,
The illusion of choice it's fell stinger.
They shed their blood for a dead hope to remain,
Signaling their destruction, a million gems rain.
Scared dogs veil the people, shielding their eyes,
Afraid of the unknown structure within their minds.
A wise man stands near the junction of two seas,
Lending the chosen few their eternal destinies.
Green soles hit a barren waste,
Water gushes from within for the righteous to taste.
The ungrateful horde stones and bones, bellies wide,
Yet on that tightrope bridge, their fates they cannot buy.
All the deeds take their toll,
600 wings waiting to take upon their fold.
The thirty six saints cannot fill the hole,
Heed the pattern of the FIRSTBORN SOUL.
- An untitled poem written by Deer Collage Grand Archmagister Allesandro Serkr, released to the public directly by the mayor after his retirement and subsequent disappearance. The relevance of the attached image has yet to be discerned.
