of_an_age Symphonic In the beginning of an age, a mouthless voice is a herald in the shouts and screams of the feeble. Man passes man in the darkness of ignorance. Taken as the thief, who steals the jewels that are valueless. Your bewept silence is a plague, in tidings you balance the prolonging - the sourest led in tongues, in practice. The music of the flesh in pain, I release you to be reborn. I watch as a crowd beckons your death, I watch as the blood rips and complacency is a kings forgiving. The weeping and indifference of your outcast state, if statehood was a weeping, as the blood, in blood the weeping. This betrayer's remorse, the state of weeping. It is but of my flesh in a passing, a pain, an acceptance of other's actions, no matter what the cost. I do not fight against the shackles anymore, I embrace the language in the deed. The superstition of minds turned, is a waiver of the soul. Judge a man in gentleness and courage of spirit, do not follow but ressurect the calm in your own eyes. Shall each hand of your enemy be washed by your own hand, and each hand grasped with guidance. I shall watch your religious ferver end, as I shall be witness to the battle. As we follow, as we watch. 040902 ... Doar getting Tired I like this one. . 220619 what's it to you? who go blather from