Woorden: Withered Earth. Gazing Into A Placid Stream.

Secluded, I sit motionless on the grasy knoll
A calm wind warms me, The Sun guides me.
Silently my eyes do close and through them I see the stream.
In the Waters I see the temple aglow
Red now flows the water as the skies burn an orchid hue.
Crumbled are the Ancient ruins of Purity
There once white color is charred black
Above them burn stars in forms of black
I cower at these visions

Haunted by these images I see my truest love her body lays quiescent
Her raped and battered corpse lays on pools of her innocence and warmth
Her tears blind me while I kneel to embrace the deceased; I look away
I gaze into the stream once again
and see my eyes cold and crazed they stare back
For what is to come you will never know.
I have seen the violence destroy the vanity inside.
I have seen the black blind the sighted,
and passion deafen the ones who can hear.
Before me lay the three dead prophets, dead by there own hands.
For this I laugh