In these hopeless fogs of Grey
Lying pitifully, I pray
To the sinless nights of yesterday
Before my soul went in disarray.
Disconnecting from the stars
I once sought this petty farce –
Foolish dream to make the world ours
But it led to the backseat of a hearse.
How could I, mighty fool, forget
The day my journey met its offset
Seeing as that day, the king signaled a threat
That his entire kingdom would be beset
But alas, the fire burns;
In the cauldron, the spoon stirs
As the fate’s roulette turns
And spins dizzily unrehearsed
One might think it deserves a rest
I thought the same of the king’s conquest
As I assailed him, disguised as a guest
Finding Gyges’ Ring in his vest.
And what awful dreams may come!
In the visions of the king’s cauldron
One finds there are many Recalcitrants
Who rest under the spell of the Establishment
And I, who spat on Machiavellian ethics,
Was confronted with revealing the Matrix
To many who’re oblivious to the basics
And who’d be unhesitant to have me beheaded
But the choice was not mine to make
As there was no more room for mistakes
Destiny picked me, the Warrior, for this task
And to recoil from fate is to wear a mask
To hide from the duty we accepted
When we took our first breath, though hectic
But since this decision was eclectic
Its purpose is thus dialectic.
So off to the balcony I went
And spoke my last words of dissent
As the crowd turned to a flame of discontent
And fell into immediate consent
I’ll be their ashes, in the sky
Protective, always flying by
In the wind of Time disguised
Like a thief in the night.
