Break apart my little men,
Break the world's order
And thus shall be born a new tale
To look, gape and wonder
They are men who seek new goods
For content to them is contempt
And their hearts yearn for pleasures new
They refuse the lords of men and heaven
They refuse to mend the broken anew
They are for hell! The priests old cried
They are for us! The men new said
They are the ones who'll bring new life
They are the ones whose tales we'll tell
Such is their glory that times still cries
That they stood to be strongest and tall
They built empires large and green
They were worshipped as the sons of God
And yet they died in the face of pains
Wading their end in silent cries
They were burnt with no one around
Their tombs lost to even those who try
Thus is their glory that they speak of time
They speak of his malice and glee
They speak against the heavens or hells
For their tales speak of both in life
And thus is their glory that men often recall
Their works, strifes and stories....
 |
| Image from the trip advisor |
Comments
Post a Comment