Aye, I will make naught but snow and cold wind of the pacific parts and mighty hosts.
Verily, I say, here in Utopia, I am suzerain
Vicariously, I live while the whole world dies
I am winter, and while I'm here, all is Anareta.
The prosperity of the fields are grayed
The graze of the cattle is ceased
The shepherds surrender to me, and the fields, cold and white and hard, are left untended.
Aye, an icey wasteland is this pastoral fantasy
Verily I say, here in Arcadia, I am suzerain
Vicariously, I live while the whole world dies
I am winter, and while I'm here, all is Anareta.
Not even the armies of Empires, can stand against me.
The oil of the engines is frozen
The troops devour the flesh of their horses
The very fiery passion that propelled them to make bloody steel in an odd land, is an extinguished flame
Aye, a martial joke is this esteemed company of conquerors.
Verily I say, here in Campus Martius, I am suzerain.
Vicariously, I live while the whole world dies
I am winter, and while I'm here, all is Anareta.
Not even the drive for freedom, can stand against me.
The fields bear nothing to reap
The colony perishes
The new world that was to allow men to eat the prosperous fruits of their labors, has eaten men alive.
Aye, a mere retrograde is this land of freedom
Verily I say, here in Columbia, I am suzerain
Vicariously, I live while the whole world dies
I am winter, and while I'm here, all is Anareta
Aye, but a small town shall bear forth a Divine Child, and He will welcome home the cold, lost, enslaved sheep with the panpipes of truth to the warm shade of the tree of life
Verily I say, there in the Heavens, He is King
Personally, He will die that my cold death will lose it's power over His People
He is Christ God, and to His reign there shall be no end.
No comments:
Post a Comment