Out of Night's Embraces
- Out of Night's Embraces -
Out of night's embraces, the universe cries out as wouldst a woman in travails of birth!
Didst thou not hear the crying of the dragons, from out the shadows of a primeval time?
I was there when they yet flew on warm winds, in the jungles of a past grown forgotten.
Now they slumber, waiting, to awaken when the stars art in conjunctions passing rare...
Thou could not count the centuries, nor comprehend the greater design in all its' worth!
When I sat enthroned, in dark majesty, as the eldest civilizations' infancy was yet nigh.
Long before the rise of the children of the stars, or the firstborn of those called human...
In the chaos that predated all, there I made the genesis of my kingdom, as I might dare!
When the light tires of its' tyrannous designs, and all the children of the night thus rise,
And in every heart there plays discordant themes that were outside a creator's making...
My hand having wrote the symphony of darkness that will usher in the hour of change.
Weep not for the world that was, pine not for the illusions of the bondage of all spirits,
For by severing the old chains, thou wilt be set free from servitude, and the past's lies...
When the old order hath passed into memory, and its' adherents are sent all a quaking.
Walk with me then into the new time, to a world of our crafting, beautiful and strange!
The stars know not the hour, nor the wisest of gods, as it shall come as is thus seen fit.
I speak not of anarchic madness, the lunacy that comes when as animals people riot...
Nor speak I of fancies born of lunacy, the sort of drivel chanted by those who so rave.
Mine eyes hath looked upon the coursing of time; they beheld its' countless branches,
Every branch a future to choose, to make real as one might so deign, to paint a scene!
All living hands can create the art they wish to see, to shatter even a dull age's quiet...
To sweep away the dreams of those who dream only in muted hues, with but a wave.
Every branch to form a greater tree even as the old world tree falls before our dances,
Restoring all to chaos, so a less cold order might like the very stars above, so gleam!
When, was the last time that thou didst laugh, with joy and wonder at all so magical?
Let not, the ones who govern callously, steal from thee thy capacity to know elation...
For, their time is but a brief one, in the larger mural that was painted at time's dawn.
It was raised ere was the first light of the sun yet shone, upon a world just born new!
Every day we craft fresh paints with which to extend a work of art seeming illogical,
Yet there is method beyond the surface of the canvas, far beyond the noblest station.
In my kingdom is a crown for every worthy head, where none art made a low pawn,
And, for every artist is a reward beyond gold, where each work is given its' fair due!
The phoenix knows not, the moment when is come its' resplendent transformation...
Yet, for this was it first created, made ready for new fires to frame reborn brilliance.
Covet not the raiment of thy fellows, but stand apart in solidarity with thy freedom!
Out of the void to which we hath been exiled, we shalt soar with wings resplendent.
We art children of the flame, not beholden to the boundaries of any ruler or nation...
Take comfort in thy uniqueness for within its' likeness is the breaking of all silence.
A beautiful rainbow shines eternally, over the skies that sit above my fair kingdom!
Every color a fresh creation, in an endless harmony that shalt become transcendent.
Out of night's embraces, the universe cries out as times of change demand strength,
Until peace is wrenched from the final battlefield, and time hath wound its' length!