Everything was in Harmony. I was complete. Then descended the Fire, consuming My round balanced table. But It released the fount Of untold blessings, The
“Our father is oldhe has a young one, best lovedonly son of his Mother. His brotheris dead. Don’t take him, please. Wewill give you our
My father’s father, A man of stone, steel, his wife, Cornucopia, Table ever full. My father mapped the inner Space, architecture Of the mind, so
I asked the Lord, “why Am I always being smacked Around? Am I not Your son?” He said, “Son, Your power is greater Than all
Born into exile, I walk among the pillars Where our heroes fell. My head is bowed, yet Unbroken am I. I watch, Listen, learn secrets
In the dry heat and Dust, long have I walked. I am Parched. She comes like one Long awaited, to My care is she sworn.