I was alone, so I sang to myself,
But my tones were thin as air
Singing softly to myself,
I met a shade who was bound, a veil to wear
Who with grand and stately words invited me to his lair
And I, a fool, and so alone
Followed the spirit there
When I arrived he barred the door
And chained me to his royal chair
And as I watched in desperate horror
The stone his finger nails did tear
My blood was cold, my courage failed
As my guide the world assailed,
And therein I saw a forest felled
And rivers dried and mountains quailed
As the wrath of the wraith prevailed
Cities burned and in their squares
Sat I, enthroned, enchained,
Inside a palisade of air
Unable to hurt, unable to aid,
Bound by fate to only stare.
The grass burned beneath his stride
And the soil fled away.
Fire wasted deeps where whales abide
And the stars began to fall and sway
But my captor ended not his play.
Swiftly with red banner, with cold iron swords
He carried out his task
And the earth seemed to shatter at his word
He turned and I beheld his face unmasked
And I died as I saw the face that had set the desolations free
And realized, that the face belonged to me.
Swiftly the wind bore the shade away
And alone, holding the sword and standard was I,
In the wreck of my own unconscious play.