Oh death to destiny with wicked
Messenger of fortune that holds true
No matter the age, person or time

We, being slaves to destiny, foresee
That we on clocks hands hold no force
That can be reckoned or forgiven

We are choice, clinging to the last shred
Of forgiveness, bearing our arms for the
Right to live is granted to all human kind

The separation of our father's and mother's
In past history was an atrocity, now we are
Granted freedom and we must take it henceforth

Wielding our weapon of the mind, the sky
And the horizon and flickering candle flame, our
Parchment naked before our eyes - the key

The sister's and brother's left behind with their
Eyes watering, uncle's and aunt's buried and gone,
Shows that fortune sides with only so many

So hold true, we few, to the luck that one can acquire
Now is the time to pick one's sparse rations and ratty
Packs and head for the frothy seas of salvation

Here to live pressing the tongues of lust
Against the grainy fleeting sands of youth
Here to breathe air that may not be here tomorrow

And though Angel high sprawled winged unseen
I can somewhere feel Her holiness upon me
There was a wisdom in the world that has been forgotten

To reach out achieve recollecting love affairs
That to be alone rather then with is true Hell
For the bed sheathed in warmth is a holy place

Take not to the skies, stay here on Earth
Illusions of a greater home across the threshold
Take not for yourself, for the world does need you

And though belief has stricken your mind
Like the plagues and sicknesses before us
Believe that belief and faith doth not have to rule you

Guidance in sacrificial robes, dusty and worn
Can be found in even the darkest places of the night
Though the light may be tricked, even by you

I hold true to what the voice tells me
These places of rapids and willows forsake
Blake, in his dreams, was once forced to wake