songs for sad barbarians by frank genghis
TRANSCRIPT
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SONGS FOR
SAD BARBARIANS
By Frank Genghis
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I am everything
I am the world
I am an islandI am separate
I am alone
I am nothing
S
Earth is my god
Rock is my kingdom
Metal is my domain
Iron is my will
Steel is my resolve
Silver is my tongue
Gold is my heart
Diamond is my intellect
Dust is my destiny.
S
Blinded by the glare Of my stupidity
Horrified by the ugliness
In my soul
Deafened by the roar
Of my own ceaseless chatter
Disfigured by the scourgeOf my vanity
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Maddened by my own
Raving ignorance
Humiliated by the ruthlessness
Of my prideBankrupted by a life
So dismally spent
Crushed by the weight
Of my insignificance
Ravaged by the barbarity
Of my own self-tormentAnd pulverized by the hammering
Of an endless hellish moment
I yet sleep content
S
I lay among the thistles,
Upon a slab of ancient rock –
Where the chill blasts off the mountains
Pinned me to its frigid block.
A great peak reared before me
Like a dark and solemn thane;Long I importuned his mercy,
To release me from my chains.
But my petitions went unanswered –
Deaf as stone that peak remained;
Who can say how long I‟ve lain here? Who will sing Prometheus‟ name?
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S
A Toast!
To thee, who hath ventured far and wide
To grace my halls with dance and song –
To flock like sheep to shepherd‟s side,
To prance and play „til night draws long,
To wallow in the merry tide –
I hail thee, brothers – well met, well come!Be thou prudish princes of the realm,
Or palsied paupers in thy ruts,
Or knights with bright and beaming helm,
Or peasants hovelled in thy huts,
Let one and all be overwhelmed
Tonight, with equal fill of guts!
Be thou monk of maudlin temperament,
Or farmer fielding prickly pears,
Or poet penning lone laments,
Or suitor swamped in dull affairs,
I beg thee shed thy dark raiment,
To giggle and let down thy hairs.
Be thou scoundrel, saint, or simpleton,I charge thee drop thy yoke of ills –
To revel „neath a happy sun,
To feast and drink „til thou art filled
With thoughts egalitarian,
Thy woes abed, thy worries chilled.
S
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When the moon came up
I went to sup
By the rocky fjords of Norway.
But old Tiw came downAnd kicked me soundly
Till once more it was Tuesday.
I sat casting runes
When Woden chose
To play me early Wednesday.
But I lost the scoreWhen old Thor roared
To give it up on Thursday.
I shook and cried
As Frigga tried
To console me late that Friday.
So I fled that wold
Like some poor skald
Back to Helheim early Saturday.
And there I counted my losses
To those Nordic tossers
Till Baldur brightened the way.
S
The wind that moves across my brow
The sun on my cheeks
The rain on my crown
The frost that forms upon my beard
Remind me how is best to live.
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S
The glint of cedars in the snow
The unmapped woodThe unmarked road
The distant waft of forest smoke –
These are things I love the most.
S
It is good to air your underwear
In the warm country breeze –
To watch grass grow, and critters go,
To rock gently in the twilight glow;
To run naked through the trees.
S
Joy in my heart
Lightness in my step
Wisdom on my brow
Poetry in my head
Love in my bed
S
I am shagging on the rocks
Wild and free
A modern-day outlawUnhinged and unlocked
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A howling barbarian poet
Raging inflammatory
In a flaccid age of mediocrity.
S
I seek a lonely summit
Beyond the realm of earthly ken;
Yet by what means may I know it,
When I‟ve the thoughts of mortal men?
S
Just how do you suppose
To set your mind free?
Are you seeking some kind of divinity?
Perhaps you long for greater reality?
Or maybe just immortality?
Just how far afield
Does your eye perceive?
Are you chasing the elusive mystical tree?
Perhaps a vantage beyond conformity?Or a position of invulnerability?
To just what degree
Does your blessed heart bleed?
Is it possible to love unconditionally?
Perhaps you strive for true equality?Or maybe just reciprocity?
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To what depths of the world
Will you willingly creep?
Do you aim for total humility?To place you pride upon its knees?
Or suffer some sort of infamy?
Just how dark indeed
Can your white lies be?
Are your words devoid of all falsity?Can truth withheld best serve the peace?
Or maybe earn impunity?
Just how smoothly
Turns your carriage wheel?
Does grace glide before your every deed?
Do your motions and mind act compliantly?
Or only when there‟s need?
Just how loud
Is your cry of liberty?
Do you dream of ears for life‟s symphony?
Perhaps in musical works
you have found them already?
Or do you hear only that which agrees?
Just how firm
Is your hand toward enmity?
Is your gentleness thatwhich makes you most mighty?
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Maybe your strength is measured by austerity?
Or perhaps it lies in the fear that you breed?
From what angleDo you face your adversities?
Do you challenge your demons fearlessly?
Perhaps you muster your courage occasionally?
Or keep it safely under key?
Just how do you supposeTo set your mind free
When thoughts come and go quite sporadically?
When ideals drop from heights
Which no eye can perceive,
Leaving scarcely a trail,
Save perhaps
Or maybe?
S
Darkening skies
Brisk winter air
Warm woollen underwearFresh minestrone
Fine red wine
Uplifting tunes
Room to move
A pinch of tobacco
An outdoor fireSpace to breathe
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No more do I need
S
Balmy spring days
Fresh smells
Painful memories
Old wounds
Forgotten freedoms
Remembered dreamsBroken fetters
Long-awaited release
New roads
S
Summer rain
Rolling green hills
Distant misty mountains
The smell of dark moist earth
Dappled sunlight through the trees
The adoring eyes of a beautiful lonely woman
A slow cruise down deserted country lanesA lazy afternoon of sweet earthly delights
Red wine, pasta, old French records
Coffee, joints, bright conversation
A fire bath beneath brilliant stars
Hot new romance
Deep sleep
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S
Fire in the rain
Smoke and mistCoupling like phantoms
Heat on my hands
Cold on my face
Sparrows and crows
Competing for crumbs
Green hillsBlack skies
Bright flowers trembling
Against a dark forest wall
Music dancing
On the restless winter wind
S
Grey skies
Endless nights
Silent fields
Absent wives.
Farmers stretched out shiveringOn empty, fallow beds;
The windfalls of the harvesting
Like autumn leaves have fled.
Cold, damp sheets of blackened earth
Spread loose across the sleeping land
As winter takes in icy handThe lonesome, tossing husband.
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S
Cold winter morning
Led ZeppelinRarefying the cool country air
With pagan rock
Blasting outcrops
Breaking levees
Electrifying fields
Wiring farm boysFlaming sheepskins
Branding cattle
Raging bulls
Rousing gods of rock
Cooking as I breakfast
On cold has-beens
My rider an empty cup
My groupies all grannies
My roadies run out
My brothers disarmed
My songbird flown away
My stairway to heaven
An escalator to a frozen hell.
S
Heavy metal
In the mountains
Gunshot ringingThrough the valleys
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Hard rain drumming
On the hillsides
Thunder battering
The prairies:
I‟m just a lone cosmic cowboy
Stirring mischief up with beans;
Raising big old mutton chops
And ruminating on the greens.
S
Strange clouds today –
Like corrugated snow
On a frozen blue lake.
Cicadas sing
And wind sighs
I am alone on a mountain
As large as life
The world below seems alien
And yet familiar
Earth seems near
And yet farLove feels close
And yet distant
My ego wants to roll down the hill
And rock into town;
But I know I would be silly to ignore my real
friends,The birds,
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Who love me for being nobody.
S
The saddest lake in the world
Full of dead trees and drowning fish
Surrounded by silent yellow hills
Oppressed by dull leaden skies
I feel empty and full
As I drink in my fillOf this lonely scene
No way out of it
But to experience the tragedy of life
And to laugh at it through the tears
S
Crocodile-infested waters
A simpering mermaid at my feet
Serpents riding waves
Lazily onto shore
Black spirits
Moving languidlyAcross the land
Haunted by white devils
Trees and cacti
Merging imperceptibly
Into one
Strange ancient bird-criesFilling the empty sky
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With arcane longing
Mangos raining from the heavens
Like tears of golden mana
Eagles hoveringLike Nature‟s silent, deadly Luftwaffe
Poised to strike.
S
Ocean of humanity:I swim through it,
Meet countless drops of water,
Each a tear,
And would drown in sorrow,
Were it not for the sky.
S
I gaze about at the faces of man,
As numberless as grains of sand,
And count among them countless friends
Pretending cruel indifference.
S
Crushed by a falling petal
Blown away by a gentle breeze
Devastated by distant bird cry
Shattered by a helpless sighToppled by a floating fragrance
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And torn to pieces by your loving caresses....
War seems by far the softer option.
S
Tears have broken down my barriers
And swept aside my sturdiest defence;
Tears have rusted through my armour
And breached my tallest battlements.
Tears have burst apart my damn walls
And turned to mud my solid keeps;
Tears have pissed on my ambitions
And undermined my dreams.
Tears have slaked my raging inner fires
And quenched my monster‟s bitter thirst;
Tears have dampened all desires
And left me drowning on the earth.
S
Have you ever felt a sadnessThat you couldn‟t explain?
When there‟s no reason why
And there‟s no one to blame?
When your soul‟s full of clouds
That just don‟t want to rain?
When the world gives no more pleasureAnd you‟re oblivious to pain?
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It‟s the kind of misplaced sadness
Of a bird without a tree,
When it wakes up in a cage,
And discovers stumpsWhere wings should be.
S
I once dreamt of a dark wooded world
Perfumed with forest smokeResonant with non-electrical sounds
Free of cars and factories
Where smiths worked metal with their own sweat
Where carpenters used hand tools
Where stone masons ruled
Where critters were not afraid to mingle with men
Where experience was the only currency
And love was the only reward.
Then I woke up to the nightmare.
S
And so there I suddenly was
Deep in mountain country
Holed-up in a nice clean hotel room
For well-heeled WASPs
Living on borrowed time
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And used-up funds
Peddling around on an unregistered bike
Looking like a Vietnam veteran
Or a dangerous outlawTrying to find some peace and quiet amid
The growing roar
Of White Man‟s fear
Backed into a corner
On the run
A lone wolf trying to hideAmong suspicious sheep
Feeling misunderstood and unappreciated
Struggling to stay sane and pure and positive
In a world turned cold and ugly and indifferent
Trusting no one and rightly so
Dreaming of medieval carnivals
And simple pagan values
Working outside the clock
And having to justify it every step of the way
No longer able to squeeze myself into the
Tightening mould
Of rising economic pressures
Burnt out from the struggle
Suffering severe spiritual malnutrition
Looking for a home out of the rain
A place to settle into stillness
Commune with forest nymphs
And daydream all night long
Praying my brothers and sisters might one dayWake up
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Throw off their shackles
Step beyond themselves
Their fears
And the rule of evil uncaring regimesHoping for a brighter day and oblivion
All at the same time
Feeling all alone and missing my girl
Even though I‟d just left her that morning
Wondering whether there‟d be a place for me in
HeavenIf I checked out of this Hell
Through the barrel of a gun
S
I gotta get a posse together
Roll the money train
Live hard and free
Sing loud and soft
Blaze a trail back to grace
Take in the sights along the way
Help the poor and unburden the rich
Cry unashamed and die laughingI gotta get a posse together
S
There are saints
I should gladly beheadThere are well-doers
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I would happily penalise
There are sheep
I should dearly love to see bled
There are shepherdsI‟d be simply thrilled to misguide
There are rebels
I would most heartily encourage
There are lepers
I would most warmly embrace
There are hell-raisersI should be most eager to manage
There are devils for whose very souls I do pray.
S
I finally ran out of road
Used up the last drop of fuel
Hit the bottom of the ink well
Made my last cup of tea
Opened my last tin of beans
Fried my last egg
Sprinkled the last pinch of salt on it
Soaked up the last rays of the sunStruck my last match
Lit my last candle
Printed my last page
And started my last fire with it.
S
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It‟s time to end this pain inside:
To remove the barb lodged in my mind;
Time to lance the boil upon my soul;
To drain the abscessAnd suture the hole.
It‟s time new life stirred in my lungs -
Time to loosen the noose
From which I‟ve hung.
Time to find new balmsTo daub on my rash –
For the old ones corroded,
Left me blistered and cracked.
Time to close the cabinet of medicines
I have opened in desperate times;In answer to my malaise,
Seeking salves to self-wrought crimes.
Time to put away the bitter pills
I have swallowed for so long;
And to look for kindly compounds,
By which I may grow strong.
Time to clear away impurities,
And to undress insecurities;
Time to empty out old baggage,
And find luggage I can manage.
Time to purge the heart of poison,
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And to fill it up with wisdom;
Time to drop the yoke of anguish,
Beneath whose weight I‟ve so long languished.
Time to burn away the tattered clothes,
And find a suit of crimson robes;
For my garment – the body –
Has grown old like the road,
Down which I‟ve long trodden,
With no memory of home.
S
In your hour of need,
When your blessed heart bleeds,
And your soul is a string
Hung with dull leaden beads;
And grief sits like a mask
On the face of all tasks,
And your spirit is wine
That‟s been spilt from its flask –
Don‟t forget that your power Draws its strength from the hour
Of the sun, once more come,
Oh my sulking sunflower!
S
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In the midst of your gloom
When the world has ceased to bloom
And your hearth fire has grown cold
And your songbird‟s wings have folded And all things seem so unjust
And there‟s no one you can trust
And you‟ve failed to keep your promise
That you‟ll be true and you‟ll be honest
And you‟re digging through despair
Like it‟s some shrine in disrepairAnd your pain has grown unbearable
And you‟re sure it‟s quite irrational
And the wise man in you is sleeping
And his friend the fool is weeping
And heaven seems so far
And you don‟t even own a car!
And the prophets are all wrong
For Armageddon has come and gone
And the terror has grown stronger
And the midnights have grown longer
And the nightmare‟s just begun
Though you know it‟s a re-run
And you‟ve lost your remote control
And you know not one kind soul
Who will share with you your dream
Of Channel One with peaches and cream
For your sweetness has run out,
And sour milk is all that‟s about...
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When your tower‟s turned to rubble
And your belt has lost its buckle
Please remember: life‟s a bender! –
And be sure to have a chuckle.
S
Each and every day
I feel a little lighterI shine a little brighter
I grow a little stronger
I think a little longer
Each and every day
I recall a little more
I stand a little taller
I sit a little stiller
I get a little fitter
Each and every day
I venture a little fartherI play a little harder
I listen a little deeper
I see a little clearer
Each and every day
My smile becomes a little broaderMy peace lasts a little longer
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My wings spread a little wider
My imagination grows a little wilder
Each and every day
My voice rings a little truer
My heart beats a little surer
My spirit soars a little higher
My love starts a little fire
S
It is tragic to see
Why we take our lives
So seriously.
And yet what is more absurd
Than a lifetime made dull
From all dramas withheld?
S
If I would take my life‟s control,
When by a reinless course I‟ve steered – To see my truant ways resolved,
No more the wayward charioteer –
Then would I, of all charge absolved,
Find Freedom also auctioneered?
I am a roaming charioteer:There‟s nothing in this world I fear.
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On freedom sold, no purse can hold
Me standing long the set career.
If I would climb the freedom pole,And fetch its flag down „fore my peers;
And with it buy a life pre-sold
On frigid rules and frozen tears;
Then, beholden, might I yet behold
What barter may not commandeer?
I am a roaming charioteer:
There‟s nothing in this world I fear.
I‟d sooner hold the beggar‟s bowl
Than pawn what wealth I true revere.
If I would choose a road less cold
Than something smoothly engineered;
And still through lurid lands strike bold,
With waving sword and stainless cheer;
Then, checking all „gainst Chance‟s roll,
Might I not lay Luck on its ear?
I am a roaming charioteer:
There‟s nothing in this world I fear.
By Fortune‟s dole, I yet ride tall;
While luckless crawls the scrutineer.
If I would man a safe patrol
Against every gremlin gathered near;And always seek the higher knoll,
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From where all dangers might seem clear;
Then would not every mile drag on,
With caution ever in the rear?
I am a roaming charioteer:
There‟s nothing in this world I fear.
To Safety‟s lull I‟ll never fold;
And never is the joyride drear.
If I would force my flighty foalTo serve a master more severe;
When instinct begs to bury whole
The harness on its youthful years;
Then how might I persuade a stolid
Steed to lurch down lanes that veer?
I am a roaming charioteer:
There‟s nothing in this world I fear.
For frivolous the path unfolds,
When pony is my eyes and ears!
And yet:
There‟s wisdom to be had, I‟m told,
In hitching horse with bridle gear;
For careless cars seek reckless goals
Unknown to prudent pioneers.
If I would find my resting soul
By travel‟s end, in distant year,
Then I would gladly stand parole,And wear the harness I‟ve long feared . . .
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For even cars are chains of gold
Which weigh down roaming charioteers.
S
There trudged a mercenary‟s wife, Forlorn and friendless to her kind –
A single sword sustained in strife,
A wake of wounded brought behind –
Across the battlefield of life,Her husband‟s broken bones to bind.
She found him by a bleeding brook –
A vein which war had vainly bled;
He rested on Death‟s sturdy crook –
An inch above his final bed.
Though living yet, his body shook,
For Life‟s government had fled.
She stole him softly in her arms,
As if to rob Death of his kill,
And wrest him sure from mortal harm
With tender words and gentle will;Yet few can best Death‟s lethal charms
Less match his touch: much gentler still!
Said she:
“Don‟t leave me yet, my love! –
„Cross bloodstained fields I‟ve fought! O‟er burning bridge; through snake-filled grove
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Was bitter passage bought!
To all I‟ve pledged a bloody troth
Who‟d bar me from my lord!”
Said he with barely-whispered voice:
“Oh wife, What do you here?
Can you hear not the splitting noise
Of battle drawing near?
Begone while there remains the choice
Of loving yet what‟s dear!”
Said she:
“‟Tis you alone, my love,
Who rests inside my heart.
Alone, „tis you, my fearsome knight,
Whose horse doth draw my cart.
„Tis your sword only, burning bright,
Could drive me to depart.”
Said he:
“Then hand it now to me,
For I would have you gone!
I am a selfish man, you see,
When all is said and done.
My battle‟s never fought for free –
Thus every fight is won!”
Said she:
“And yet you take the field,While righteous men do cower.
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And knaves, by oath, their fealty sealed,
Fall faint „fore Doubt‟s dread power.
Irresolute, you doubly wield
Your truth, when faith turns sour.”
Said he:
“‟Tis I who am the knave,
For courage marks its bench
By welcome of the warrior‟s grave,
And faith that finds no blemish.No hero-act could be less brave
Than fear of Death‟s stale stench!”
Said she:
“My love, „tis noble sure
To give yourself to blame
For virtue less than godly pure
When all‟s done in God‟s name.
While Death bangs loudly on your door
And offers little gain.
While arms are broke and ribs are sore
And legs are limp and lame.
What man can honestly endure
The stab of mortal pain,
And fearless face his God‟s stricture
With less than mild disdain?”
Said he:
“Such pains are pittance fee
Against the due rewardOf justice done that‟s heavenly
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When every tally‟s scored.
My fallow faith, my knavery,
Are points to be deplored.”
Said she:
“And who are you to judge
The sums of the divine?
For who can surely reckon much
By things to which we‟re blind?
The dream which sets us on the march,A paradise to find?
The stars which steer us by a touch
Impalpable to mind?
Nor can one stand without the crutch
Of earthly ties that bind.
Forgive yourself the burdening hunch
Of weights so ill-defined!”
Said he:
“Life is a struggle to
Throw off the earthly thrall.
To sit content within its stew
Is no sustenance at all!
And to make of ignorance excuse
Is to rest upon one‟s laurels!”
Said she:
“My love, I do not doubt
That life‟s a hard-won battle.And more for him, who fights without
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Commitment, follows trouble.
And yet, I fear, for those devout
In seeking lofty saddles
Must face the kind of holy boutThat sends the saints to prattle.
If you would every demon rout
Amidst the outward rabble,
Then restlessness will find you out
And ever mock your mettle.”
A silence fell upon the land,
As though the battle had withdrawn;
And fainter pulsed the dying hand
Of the mercenary fallen.
He raised a smile in final stand
And held his wife as newly born.
Said he:
“My love, your gift is gold:
Your words have set me free!
How came a woman, born so bold
To love a cur like me? –
A lawless wretch, in loving cold,
You sided yet with me?”
Said she:
“What could do otherwise
A mercenary‟s wife? –
For one must choose to take a side
When sideless men choose strife.When battle brings no greater prize
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Than surrender of one‟s life.”
S
I sat with my girl
In the burning sand
As a sun of angry red
Set its eye on the land.
And I wept as I stroked
Her blistered hand,For I was broken
And burnt-out man.
S
What a strange life this is!
So little time in which to live!
A Library to read
Volumes to write
Scores to compose
Epics to recite.
Marathons to run
Worlds to exploreOceans to sail
Skies through which to soar.
A Void to consider
A Self to know
A Kingdom to build
A Garden to grow.A Maid to rescue
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A Dragon to slay
A Queen to seduce
A Family to raise.
A Universe to discoverA Population to meet
A Planet to unite
A God to greet.
These things I might do
In just one lifetime‟s score
If I were everyoneAnd dying no more.
S
Here lies a happily dead man.
He had a punk time on Earth.
He lost countless battles but won the war.
He faced his nemesis and shadow-boxed its
black arse.
He took some wicked photos of Hell.
He wrote some mean articles about demons.
He drank more coffee and smoked more fags than
anyone else.He enjoyed the flesh but let it go without
complaint.
He had a porno life.
He did it his way, always.
He wants to thank you for coming when he did.
You‟ve been a sexy audience.
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S
I am Oroboros, the Serpent King.
I am your darkest nightmareAnd your brightest dream.
I am the perfect form
Containing nothing.
My beginning is my end.
My reign is an endless cycle.
I am the child of my own creation.My crown is a life bejewelled
With countless glittering moments.
S