Untitled

I sit amidst the disquiet
while harkening to the Ravens song
It's voice so sweet to my ear
more joyful than the orchestra
that plays not a tune of life
Or rather not of the way it is
but of the dream of what it should be.

I lie down amidst the calm
or an idea of which it is
For the chaos of the world
surrounding, binding and penetrating
holding us to its unstopable will
To it's unbendable plan
more firmly than any hand of God.

I rise among the people, the citizens of this life
offering words of insight and revelation
They call the Ravens song harsh
They play a part in the orchestra
They ignore the chaos outside of their own world
They are the source of life and its end

For I defy the chaos and urge them to do the same
to rise up and throw down the plan of a false god
I forge my own destiny with the blood of my labour
The fruit of my heart will triumph
I am a warrior, just and true
Throwing my self at the Chaos
Yet despite my efforts I will end in death.