I look around if it is a dream

I look around if it is a dream

With the grey I see not the green.

Vision forced to look back inside

Barely anything is left outside.

And this the fire that called their desire,

When the supreme seemed to be written,

By the demon who was there, hidden.

He then exposed it on his plates,

He cried he has opened the gates,

Mad as he was, he missed their madness,

And there he was, burning with the fire

His work lost, with no one to admire.

And this the fire that called their desire,

He went wherever nature led, for the words worth,

To bless them with a new birth,

Where each would understand the other,

And men would carry it further.

The ‘I’ failed to feed; fire died away.

Then asked what he could not refuse,

He took the honor and forgot his muse.

The storm was over but a flame

Ignited, it was then that they came.

Vision forced to look back inside

Barely anything was left outside.

And this the flame that led to his fame

With the sun the blazing star found he was famous

And swore to publish his mind while he feels the impetus,

With battle in his breath from boyhood

He grew up watching him to manhood.

Or indeed his brain was feminine,

He could not accept the war but, more his fall,

Ardently he did hear and it was the ocean’s call.

I now see the nightingale on that bough

It looks real close,

No it’s fled, come here!

I will find you, he said you are around

And I believe in your sound

They won as I now exist

To narrate what you know not,

That they were nothing but themselves

And this the fire that called their desire,

Or was it there always?

Rising;

With an indefinable power,

Beauty of the intellect,

Liberty of the soul,

Men among men,

With no fear of life and death,

I sing their immortal song.