Silver wings circle Portents of a strange past returning Over bones of crippled behemoths I tread through the mire In the mists, I can feel it Looming as a vulture Eyes fall upon me Searching, shifting in judgement So small, so weak Pale in the dimming light of æons Near the river, I see it Jet black and silent Approaching, I'm diminished By mysteries of 10, 000 ages I cannot remember From where I came And I cannot remember Who I once was The slow march of time Turns even the greatest of triumphs To nothing Nothing more than sand Washed into the infinite sea