on the parchment of clouds
the sea has lost it's bitter blue
caught up in a cataract
the flowing of fire and pieces from the temple
shattered along with the big and windy halls
that stood once as sanctuary
for the gods of a world long lost
under the wheels of tanks and the biting of turrets
that stroke deep into the heart
of a tradition lost in smoke
under the shattered pieces
of idols made from the gold
that couldn't be left alone inside the uterus of mother earth
forced
to melt inside the incubator of lies
built by ourselves in a previous life
in which we rode
on black horses
through the ghostly white halls of the kingdom now forever lost...