spectator

[fledgist]

no giants guard against brigades of lies

so many horrors weigh upon each life

and there is nothing here to replace strife

upon each back is weight of thousand eyes

those are strange stars under the darker skies

and each will shine as brightly as a knife

while rumours of new horror still run rife

and no one wants to listen to our cries

this is an age of change and every breath

announces that we have not yet been felled

or placed within the boxes of the night

but there are worse conclusions still than death

we stood and watched while better men rebelled

knowing that they took our place in the fight