Many many curtains the same
Flapping as the banner-men on the gust hills I gaze
But each with different patterns presenting a culture of its own

As a warlord I've always known
to be amidst this scene.
Replaying my role, thoroughly
would mean all the difference and the same...

As I walked back and forth on my red carpet, thus
I would always return
Watching as the butterflies swirled
whilst perfecting the effects.

"Measure a paragon would
an omens faith stuck ill in me.
Sow the winds, reap the storm"

Nor the devil's usurper before
I realized this position, I
Burst its flappers and made a gust
wish, for the thinkers in my head
to brew a distill and forget
that I was even here and then...

The sun sets
I await a solemn vow, now
as I wake upon a hill with
soothing wind and a banner in my hand.
No patterns but a white flag
and a slight sense of peace again

I catch a flying letter, saying;
"There is no war, but you"
Last edited by Eccer at May 8, 2016,