Lords Of Creation

Midwinter

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    Caress sweetly my instrument
    When words can only fail,
    Elicit naive notes from it
    When clouds form to prevail
    And fever shakes my burning heart
    More fragile than it seems.
    I raise my will to save my breast
    A Phoenix-life again to lead.

    Hark to the world from a different angle
    As far too few are able to,
    At least it's no big price to pay
    To see - not even you.
    For you were helpless innocent
    And you'll stay for all your time,
    You might reach the natural border,
    I will build a further line.

    Gathered round the fear that makes us strong -
    Freedom!
    Summoned to fulfil the human role -
    To grow!

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    Hordes of dread
    Leave your throne.
    We're the Lords of creation,
    Human gods on our own!

    A symphony
    Carved in stone
    Of bold, artistic glamour
    Shall mark my home.

    So scorn the dull, uncultured mob
    Sticking on its seat
    And satisfied with empty rubbish -
    Ridiculous to me!

    I caress my instrument...

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