From The Nightmare Shaken
Here walking amongst the ruins of heavens citadel
I can sense the movements of the past disturbing meditation
Echo's - reverberations from another plain.
From some small world dissolving
Time makes fools of us all.
From the nightmare shaken
How am I to awaken within myself acceptance of the silence that hangs so heavy a shroud
Of death upon the chariot of the sun?
A sacrifice required?
Who shall be first fed, slain for the thirst of the dead.
poem by David Lacey
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