Do not listen
     to my words
                 or
     riotous prophecies
     of a world on fire
                             
                             I­ am
      the son of Cassandra,
                a shining bird
           not to be believed

If I am to tell you that I
see the monsters of our
     suppressed dreams
    come to bathe us
            in flame

Heed not a word
            of it

For the gods have
   declared me a liar
and I am not allowed
          to tell the truth

Only to give short
    flights of fancy
              with which
    you may entertain
               yourself

If I am to tell you that I
     see the worlds cities
in peace - Prepare for
                  the worst

      For I am the son
           of Cassandra,
          a shining bird
       not to be believed