The One Who Wields the Sword
Oh you who came before
walking in the silver door.
Who held the sword for you,
when battles fought were through?
You walked on air so high,
the gods opened up the sky
Daybreak before you bowed,
as you stood among the proud.
Your winged carriage does await
to fly you past the gilded gate.
From your throat a baleful war cry,
meant to bleed the heavens dry.
Now the time draws near.
You again will thrust your spear
into the longing hearts of men,
who follow you to the very end.
War -- Pablo Picasso