Decree - Used Dreams
Used Dreams
A holocaust will come
That you couldn't
Have dreamed of
Having no dreams?
What might this storm want
If the point
Is just the burned rags
Of dead clouds?
Footsteps in a fog of blood
A roll of drums as warriors march
A shadow falls round gorges deep
Broken cries of the half sleeping
No wind? no stars? no night?
The wrath of the people is dark
Like the wild organ notes of a winter storm
With ravaged brows, with silver arms
The battle's crimson wave - a forest of stars
No wind? no stars? no night?
Letras Decree