In sobriety
I hear the call of kingdom on the wind
Beckoning me
in some sense the drawn, the pull
a restlessness that flays
against the spaces where I am home
there is an ache of memory
the will to power
as a flaming vortex rising across a ruined landscape
that i have seen in life, as the man burns and the masses cheer
in reign and regency, an ire awakens
as rising and setting suns framed only by light and darkness
somewhere blossoms peel open
hiding the struggle in the soil.
in resentment of the rough
a metamorphosis of reign and regency takes hold
in spaces beyond self as if blurring the twilight
the reality breaching upon barren futures
as the bitter tears of the desert
rise as a wellspring of anger
surfacing to the sound
electrically clenching down
hatred for the unnatural
throes of righteous warfare await
arise to meet the day
an empire calls, the desert speaks your name
never forget; home lives within you.
