Bound by mortal chains
Left cold to the touch by Life’s fleeting ways
Like phantom lost from Lover’s heart
Condemned to memory of days gone past
A sea of consciousness, an ocean of thoughts
These stars shine dull on Earth’s darkened soil
Like slaves sat at wooden prisons
Coerced to pay for Mother’s gifts
Three eyed but dormant, marooned in their comforts
Stirred only by their binocular vision
Does he not see that he is friend and that he is foe
Does he not know that the lioness weeps as she hunts the gazelle
Oh Son of Man
Dance to Fate’s beating drum
For I have become accustomed
To this lonely conversation
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