The Wild One

Out comes the storm In a galloping parade Of silver and iron Honour masking the greed of men In the rattling and dim wilderness The rituals and the songs Are ready to be extinguished By those who rule over gods And then a fatal sob Pierces through the still ether And the keepsakes of ages Are washed away in a river the colour of blood - A paradise is lost And she dashed out of that darkness Leaving behind her potions And the archeology of knowledge Clotted with blood of the wise and the heathen Sacrificed onto an unfaithful god On top of a sun-brimming temple But the men came for her As they always do Filled with lust and rage Gnawing, ripping, mutilating That dark sacred flesh Discarded on the wet ground And she strode deeper and deeper The wild one of her tribe With only traces of echoes Of the only voices she had known But there are no voices here They remain only as effigies On dirty marble of the victors - Silencio.