A Student Of Man
My lord where is your crown? Its jewels should be seen by the swallows from the south Is it true you no longer wear it? Or is it they are no longer needed? The birthplace of intelligence falls And culture resides below the hill with the eight letters Where is God? He is wearing your crown like a ring on his finger And he points to each rift Each crack within the earth- like a flaw unintended Each mountain and plain- believing in nothing Knowing there is no longer any heros to stand up to him Only students of men Who catalogue the helmets and spears Of Ajax and his soldiers Deep within the caverns of a city's museum Where they sleep by day and finger the artefacts by night I shall go there and steal the hidden armour of Achilles Duffle coat and hat And Ajax's suicide sword Pen and golden signet ring I shall raze the mountain of the eight letters And build a ship with twilight's rope and moonlight papyrus By the darkness I will sail over ripple, over ...