So many days, so much poetry!
So does the shadow roll outward on the morning breeze
As the south loses grip and the descent begins in earnest
Slippery fingers with hollow promises tap against harsh wood
With night surpassing day with bloodier news
As another family blackens with the end of the blood
With more and more shadows drawn empty by the dawn
Horrors beyond our walls, beyond our lands
Yet here, for now, it is warm and we embrace light
For what can conflict do to we who reign over it?
We dominate, we rule, it is we who hold power
Clenched fists and blades can not dare think to touch us
We who brush nations away with the gentlest touch
Those of common ilk cannot comprehend us