The Epic Rebirth

Fireflies beacons, nomad, I quest Thrusting dagger deep into night Afterglow, apparitions that fest Dancing in the wake, and they fade away, when pulling out the knife Forlorn my laden soul, it is a walking corpse Stride I, battle broken and weary worn… betwixt these nether plains My own body, the beggar of death, as I travel upon this barren orb? To seek solace and purge myself of these arrows of pain Cease! Ole burdens of the dragon’s fire or mares of knotting noose Mercy, Lord, mercy! Extinguish its flame! Relieve my hopes that dwell upon the hangman’s truce One last breathe I beg, the next will break these chains Am I not within thine favor but, I still the puppet that looms? Sundials seem slower turn, balance of power within the hourglass sifts Morns now within the past, blood red skies surround the birthing moons Then earthly shadows realign, transfix to specters smile, grins the eclipse Nigh tides of newer judgments will thou not find? Seize I, Smith through your molten molds, can I not be recast? To pure, liken the worn out golden coin? Fiery furnace the hotter, all but ore be turned to ash Forger, honing of His industrious craft Reshapes the glowing mass With hammer strikes anvil forms a newly awakened man This time the heart of steel, that once was one of shattered glass