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Ambition through the Eyes of the Dead
Words of timeless feats,
Filling the mind with grandeur.
He is gone from us.
Clouds conform to eyes,
Wind calls to spirits in flesh.
But none shall remain.
Who heeds the call now?
Trumpets sounding in the wind,
Bolts in the distance.
Waking eyes recall
Nothing- of the dreamless sleep.
It shall be the ruin.
Defiance is there-
In the eyes of the children.
Yet, waking eyes know.
He walks, the dead man.
The young know not- they are dead-
But we, the dead, know.
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