- Aug 20, 2020
- 86
- 109
A lone melody escapes from the depths of darkness,
The earth lies slain, the wind’s pulse heartless.
Grand regiments of light march on unceasingly,
But bow to the Majesty of Perception increasingly.
A chorus builds hurriedly in harmonic dissonance,
Green trembles shyly to pale blue's impudence.
Now all wait on edge for a glimpse of his highness,
And when his red guards rush forth, finally he rises.
~Poet of Ephraim
The earth lies slain, the wind’s pulse heartless.
Grand regiments of light march on unceasingly,
But bow to the Majesty of Perception increasingly.
A chorus builds hurriedly in harmonic dissonance,
Green trembles shyly to pale blue's impudence.
Now all wait on edge for a glimpse of his highness,
And when his red guards rush forth, finally he rises.
~Poet of Ephraim