by Shawn Ervin
They talk to me, they guide me to here,
I push and push, but still they lead,
Madness is creeping in, but still the voices feed,
Feeding a drive, pushing me to near,
The source, and still they lead,
My soul is tearing, my sanity is sheared.
They have guided me, to the man in black,
The voices have ceased, my mind is calm,
I sit with the man, he begins to read psalms,
He preaches to me, no waiver no crack,
His voice is peaceful, my mind is calm,
He finished, then pulled cards from his sack.
I am the last guardian, the first Sheppard,
He pulls a card, the first of my flock,
One by one he calls them, then the shock,
He called her name, I can only move forward,
She died years before, the last of my flock,
How will I gather her, the last pulled card.
I slept that night, her face haunted my dreams,
How she was taken, how I was so weak,
I couldn’t fight, how I was so meek,
Yet fates cruelty, irony it seems,
The nightmares filled my mind, I was so weak,
I slept that night, her face haunted my dreams.
I arose the next morning, needing a flock of six,
There was no man in black, just ash and bone,
I set out to find the first, I head out alone,
How will I find them, no games; no tricks,
The first is an elemental, element of Earth and stone,
My quest begins, finding a flock of six.
Last updated January 07, 2012