A lone silent warrior in a fantasy world
Stood at the carving on the monument telling lies
Digging of the earth, making friends with the soil
So swept in the shroud of misanthrope, he went away
With their fabled illusions, vain dreams that passed
In the serpentine sun of tragedy basked
Sunken into the shadows with a dry sardonic smile
Stood there cursing at the soul dead mass
He cried for night but night could not come
Splinters of a life rushing by in the whirl
With the artifacts of the black rain
And fed the empty galleries
To rouse a sacred confrontation
He made the footprints a part of his heart
The black clad voyeur in his black clad masque
As the all mother rises and bares her bleeding thighs