O Son of The Morning
O Son of The MorningO what is this, my crown of morning,
your beauty and your cause...
Was it beyond such span of wings
that light could hide your flaws?
O shining marvel of my making
Could I not hear your river flow?
Is there a pool of secret dwelling
Which only you can know?
O flame of imperfection
Flaming arrows stick me through
To gather pain with your collection
Of the jaded and untrue
O fall, my son of morning
- You are no longer mine
Encase your heart in earth and stone
And enter into time
Decend within my blessing
Which is meted on the earth
The meek shall find my mercy
and you, eternal curse
O fall my son of morning
And don the robes of night
Your kingdom is restricted
And shall be severed from my light
But know my son of mourning
This usurping form you've cast
Will see my "good" begining
When the ending scroll is past
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