Facing the Thousand

When you gaze into your polished metal plates You picture the face of a man who longs to see his soul But claws are claws, whether sharpened or painted or blunted From hours of bounding, one-track-minded, through the snow I have arrived, an exile too

In the distance, they are circling I watch them go around and around, never tiring The one near death is hypnotized and closes its eyes One last time Patiently they wait for that perfect moment to descend And pick to pieces a once healthy Body of pas

He clasps the crag with crooked hands Deformed from gripping the rock so tight Close to the sun in lonely lands But the wax never melts from his wings Ringed with the azure world he stands Emperor of the sky, lord of the ocean The very image of a kin

You will find that some of the most exquisite eyes Mask the cruellest secrets A villainess in a goddess disguise I grew to easily distinguish your lies Your glossy, sincere smile, always too eager to please Everything good, everything hopeful that yo