It stares defiant across this crowded room
And the faces between us are invisible
The barrier of insurmountable time crumbles
Walls heaving with the weight of a thousand stories
Each one scented with desert sand, incense
Flood-soaked lands, an ocean to world’s end
Shores we stand upon, living the lives of ghosts.
Eyes in blue and gold tell of this
To a room of passersby not listening
Screaming at them the obvious:
‘Time passes, all will end—
Look at my face and witness the glory of kings’
But that glory is known to them.
They go on, at the shores of a greater ocean
Living the lives of ghosts.
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