Inspiring Blue Flamed Pyre
A thousand years ago I had watched,
kingdoms fall to their graves.
The rotting corpses of kings and queens,
a starving nation feed upon itself.
Bottling up these notations of history,
to write down on ivory parchment.
My tears have been turned eternally black,
a silver mirror lay fractured on its back.
These wings sweep away the cold winds,
Soaring above Viking ships with frigid eyes.
Perched myself above church tops,
heavy and bleeding heart for the lost.
Tips of my fingers singed by fire,
time leaves his scars with me.
Funeral pyres for the wicked,
burning brightly in a velvet sky of night.
Holding the good ones as they die.
Pieces of my face lay in my hands,
half living with these damn frustrations.
My spirit yearns for enlightenment of earth.
Strife and decay taking over this paradise,
Alone in my sorrow I turn to meet my end.
