. . .
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Now our blood
Travels though the
veins of our
history
It bursts forth them
Boiling black
clouds from the wrists of kings
The shadow
Lengthens as
time draws on its tendrils
Creep into mythic cracks
blending with the light of day
We see it
Now Before us
But even so we cannot
Read the lies between the lines
Bring them nothing
They have
Made it's way
The nights
. . .
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Until your voice is heard
And still the arm
Shaken, shaken
Your voice
Still real
And so you say
Unto all
I am ____
________
________
Bring them down
World is waiting,
God is found,
Not in rivers but in drops
. . .
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He is not mad
His thought is clearer than
The saner man
For in her he saw
Beauty overflowing
Through the tattered clothes
She was his queen
She is a queen
In dreams he
Wanders the dark
In search of her
. . .
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Your reign is ever growing
Spreading like a moss
across rock, under sky, over roots and the thorns
your reach is ever growing, spreading like a moss
. . .
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If only I could
Clear my eyes
Then I might breathe once more
Then I might breathe again
Old sun and stars,
And oceans below me
Gathered scribes over
Jaggad shards, under foot
Old sun and stars,
And oceans below me
Gathered scribes over
Jaggad shards, under foot
To slash to the sound
How many sit on woe or peril?
How many walk on their own?
Into the truth
Let myself burn
Now it's written
1000 shards
. . .
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All Out Of Time, All Into Space |
. . .
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He was patient
Slow descent, chills the bones
His wait maybe long
Still he carries on
Always reaching for her
Always breathing for her
Lifting his hand to the sky
Slow change might bring
Holy tears
Upon his battered skull
Holy tears
Holy tears
Her form transformed, from ash to golden throne
. . .
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. . .
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I fell asleep in a world dressed in grey
Only to awake in a garden divine
There was song and dance and untarnished flesh
A feast for the body and eyes
It was you who brought me here
Yours, whose face greeted me, in the garden of light
You are the face of god
You are my breath
My life, my death
. . .
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