Solace in the Primeval
Gnarled limbs reach far into extending horizons
Each with its own reality and beset on all sides by the extraneous
Pensive existence on many strata
Some lay beneath clouds which obscure ascension
Some stretch to frail points of remoteness
But all forget the binding power below
Periods of conflagration seem a hell to the parochial
Searing chaos reduce to cinders
Life beneath the rot will again flourish
Withered and dry, venerable shells collapse in fiery ruin
As Spartans formed before the Immortals of Xerxes
Temerity in duty Acceptance of the familiar unknown
Overcome by the honor to die as one
One which is eternal but through like deeds
Solace in the primeval Summoning vernal winds
Solace in the primeval "Where all suns have hitherto gone down" X 2
Seedlings scattered to the skies
Languishing in inhospitable soils abroad
Unto us weeds are carried by the same means
And all are thus pulled to the same miserable end
Would knowing the source alter even one occurrence?
Lifetimes spent perambulating only the surface
Efforts to decipher what may yet be incomprehensible
Overshadow the origin of that upon which destinies are etched
As Constantine besieged within crumbling walls
But a faint shadow of a reeling gelding
Thinning blood may not slake cruel blades
Heads destined to adorn foreign edifices
