Centurion

The hollow loss has crept into my life

And shaped it to be its home

I fall asleep into a tar black hole

And wake up into the shades of the past day

I am Centurion

For there are hundreds of me alike

Here today gone tomorrow

Born of emptiness and sorrow

Into sadness and shaded lot

Hollow realm devoid of deeper thought

One of millions points of darkness

A diamond in sand though

I am Centurion

There are millions of us

Ordering our one-manned armies

I am my own subordinate and superior

Unnamed army of indifferent swords

Summoned to gather upon the shore

No servants they need, no lords

As obedience to themselves they swore

Past centuries were my shelter

Brought up by stone statues I was

Fed on dew that hasty night left

I have been forsaken by Light

Clad in century-old armour

Corroded by acid of memories

Covered in rust of my anger

Here I rise-Centurion

Against Hope, against Dreams

For suppressed will I fight

Confined imagination

And, oh, upright pose

Retrieve the Mind Equilibrium

Revive words their Might

Give the Night its moonless Darkness

And the Warriors the Cause to Fight

My summoning call dies into the sky-high wall of groans

The orphaned widows mourn their youth

The silhouettes of swords buried in memory

Are cutting thru the realms` screen

To stop the rocking of the empty cradles

Stone hits the stone, the clatter, as hypnotic chant, fades in blizzard�s spell

Ecce Centurion, marching with his alikes

I am Centurion

And there are millions of us