Spoken in riddles,

from a tongue long forgotten by man, and meaning.

The questions marked,

hitherto, without form or prose, torn from lips bleeding.

And we watched the city’s burn.

Ashes to memories, and dusk to dust.

And the new dawn never came,

and settle did the spring-found rust.

The city has burned,

and the lives forgotten,

the church has been pillaged.

Leaving the son, begotten.

To the sea, they went,

from waves, to blaspheme,

And the screams cut short,

leaving the sunset serene.

The scorching of innocence,

Praise, to the obscene.

The worship, of ignorance,

whilst the lambs, are mourning.

The world found its piper,

followed all along.

The world found its piper,

and died, by his song.