Lofty currents raise a cloth flag,
Inked patterns, shapes and representations,
One icon, replicated a millionfold,
And yet,
Where are we taking this flag?
For as it is our wing,
Holding us high,
It is also the cloak we bear,
As we plunge through caverns,
Diving through murky lakes.
And, in the way of caverns,
They're so much deeper than we believe.
Now, let us venture counter-clockwise,
Close your eyes,
Strain your ear,
For the memories,
Of long ago.
Where our world,
Was small, balanced.
And the legends,
Speak to us,
Of six Behemoths,
Who began small,
Yet still evil,
And they devoured
Beings around them,
One by one,
Growing stronger,
Exponentially.
Their shadows fell across valleys and mountains,
And their breath fueled the great winds,
Their roars were thunder, and their strikes lightning,
And so, they began to dominate the very fabric of reality,
Shielding our small eyes from whence we came.
Our voices carry on,
Through the waves and turns of time.
The echoes swell up from our own vocal chords,
As past, present, and future all ask,
Who will save us now?
Break the mainframe,
Burn the framework,
Rally the work force,
And force them out.
