Ghost in Time

Some of us may carry light

About and within us, never bending

Comprehending the obscurity

Insecurity of things unknown

Sown are the seeds of thoughts in stone

A throne, standing, vacant, cold

Old in the royal hall of dominance upon the earth

Who or what would claim it?

Monarchs in anticipated birth

Await their turns to maim it

Stain it with the fluids of lesser men

Then, wear emancipation-masks

The tasks of the hurtful are almost complete

Obsolete are all the doctrines that seek to justify their ways

Days are ending, swiftly sending

Time into oblivion.

And thus ends our dominion.