You seek to find
Something within yourself
That dissipates everything
You've ever known
There is no Knowledge
To be gained without Pain
And so you've let
Your Sickness grow
He was just a Child
When he faced the Dream
Uncertain of what be beheld
It was with Time
That he began to see
What his Dream could be
He grew and gathered
To him Men of Three
Of Which one was me
We set out to alter
What was deemed to be
Our Destiny
Light passed to Night
And back again too many Times
Reflections spoke to us of Age
Our Vision dimmed but his Will was Stone
As though he still dreamt of the Day
I needed to believe in me
But instead I followed he
Who was meant to serve
Only as a Guide
Something I could not see
I could not understand
Until he died
Seasons have passed
This Winter it was my last
I feel no Sorrow
I feel nothing at all
Life is just a Poem
That must reach its End
But I would hear another Verse
Before I die
Now that my Days are done
Spirits let me see
It was not the Child who was the One
It was me!!