Lords Of Creation

Midwinter

Caress sweetly my instrument 
When words can only fail, 
Elicit naive notes from it 
When clouds form to prevail 
And fever shakes my burning heart 
More fragile than it seems. 
I raise my will to save my breast 
A Phoenix-life again to lead. 

Hark to the world from a different angle 
As far too few are able to, 
At least it's no big price to pay 
To see - not even you. 
For you were helpless innocent 
And you'll stay for all your time, 
You might reach the natural border, 
I will build a further line. 

Gathered round the fear that makes us strong - 
Freedom! 
Summoned to fulfil the human role - 
To grow! 

Hordes of dread 
Leave your throne. 
We're the Lords of creation, 
Human gods on our own! 

A symphony 
Carved in stone 
Of bold, artistic glamour 
Shall mark my home. 

So scorn the dull, uncultured mob 
Sticking on its seat 
And satisfied with empty rubbish - 
Ridiculous to me! 

I caress my instrument...
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