Prophecy

The gods stand tall,
The people cringe in fear,
In the age of darkness,
There shall be no light,
no saviour to lead the people,
against the gods and their darkness.

The only thing that would be there,
Was darkness.
Darkness forged by man,
forged by machine,
forged by everything that made men like gods.

When the darkest hour ticks,
And the grandfather says the time has come,
The darkness shall consume,
All but one.

He shall stand small,
Weak and full of fear,
But fear for himself,
He will not have.

His fear is not for his family,
Nor for his friends.
His fear extends that to the path of love,
Apon which he shall gain his strength.

Into the darkness,
This being of fear will tred,
Full of weakness and confusion.
But when the time comes,

All will be saved,
Not by the great saviour,
Not by the gods,
But by the man of love,

Who fought for none but his love.
His greed,
His selfishness,
His being of chaos,

Shall be the only thing,
Man could say,
Was a saviour,
Of their kind.