There once was tradition
That seemed all the same
In places and dreams
That I could once name
There once was a truth
Bathed in while light
Where cries of valor
Cut out through the night
There once was legend
of fortune and gold
in the streets of the city
as it was foretold
so they rode upon horses
and ran their machines
their lives consumed
in metropolitan scenes
beneath them It slumbered
lying in wait
the soul of the river
on the reaches of fate
in the cold rain
see the dragon awaken
to feast on the city
and all it’s forsaken
roads flooded with water
all concrete in their claims
in soft, subtle whispers
it calls out their names
as their vehicles wreck
in pylons and ire
extinguishing fears
their hopes, and desire
and the rain still falls
in passionate sheets
from the wreckage of man
where it kills and it eats
the dragon roars out
as the vehicles roll
in bolts of blue lightning
as it tears at their soul
it soars through the clouds
emergent like mutiny
reigning and feeding
calculating with scrutiny
in a city of angels
the rain falls as tears
upon the weight of the masses
in forgettable years
its all a distraction
that will come to pass
in a world where so little
was meant to ever last
the battles will be many
against foes yet unseen
in the paths of our lives
neither carnal nor clean
and hope shall remain
reforged anew
in the shadows of purpose
that live within you.
Within all the structures
There is only man
Who poisons the earth
And corrupts with his hand
His brilliance a madness
His technologies vast
Upon unforeseen futures
Their lots to be cast
sands blow in the desert
waves crash on the sea
snow falls in the mountains
On what will yet be
The river lies dormant
Where the sun dies
the tides of humanity
washing out in their lies
in the caverns of self
I find this to be true:
Right and wrong are just words
What matters, is what you do.
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