I was at a high elevation bellow the southern dreams of our soul,
each time I closed my eyes I could see all of Man's disgrace,
making my heart beat miss a tone and leave me with a pain of disdain,
as I gasp for breath,
I cannot climb any higher, and the feats of height do not recon with the altitude to hold the winds still,
man's heart will not sit still,
it is our curse,
its the moment man realize's we are cursed,
we truly see the sun,
or the son of truth,
when we kneel down to kiss the ground,
only to feel the cold touch of mud,
after a storm that torn down the steeples that were suppose to touch the sound of MAN!!
Yet I have not forgotten,
nor left the hymns,
to be sang by the lost songs of the apostles...
You are alone,
in a darkness,
where even the bold will not use their hands to find,
tether yourself to my mind,
and find a beast past the fog of a sea,
put your ear to the shells to hear the sea,
you just may hear my face,
or see my space,
where my castle towers hold the tomes of truth,
and my gargoyles stare into eternal space...
Yet be sure to count you cards,
and cut your heart out and replace it with the stones of pain,
even then the sight of my eyes,
may not prevent you cutting down your dreams,
with you hitting the ground...
edit on 23-3-2013 by Bicent76 because: (no reason given)