An Ordinary Tale

It’s a Hell in a cell in a dark beehive
Off a mislaid scroll of a timeless curse,
Where we all breathe yet none of us lives,
Where we all strive for a common cause;
For a common pain,
For a common end,
For slaves to be born,
For slaves to be killed,
For a son of a God,
For a drunken king,
For a queen to be fed,
For a rite of a ring,
For a lair of an heir no longer there,
For a fear of a war with a next of kin,
For a gasp of air in the underground,
For the sound of a round shattering your chin,
For the ones who dare,
For the no-one there,
For the lost,
For the ghost under your skin,
For the vows we broke,
For the smiles we choked
With lies which spoke inherited sin,
For the light that’s gone,
For the stolen Sun,
For dreams on the run which shan’t give in,
For a call I heed in a time of need
For the words I bleed, I weave and spin
For a certain fall, once and for all,
For the worms in a hole, for the worms within.

H.Q.
20:17
SUN|3|NOV|2013