through the rays of the new day's light,
A whisper of dawn from the fractured night:
In its infancy
it was but a spark,
Now an inferno igniting the dark.
The turbulence of the rising storm cannot
with the fury of recollections forgot.
An arid desert of experience lost;
Nomadic existence, too high a cost.
Sun-baked concrete burning blistered feet;
Broken cobblestones of these lonely village streets -
paths traversed, now consigned to hist'ry,
On a journey to you; the unlocking of myst'ry.
Could it be true that my heart would forsake,
me to the custody of ache?
Would that it end but mem'ry remaining,
I should be King, on sorrow's throne reigning.