The Prophecy of the Highwayman.
He stood, robe fluttering, muttering non-decipherable words
three days he had walked without sign of a wagon, or even heard
A carrion bird kept a constant watch on him, as if he would drop dead
His backpack began to feel like lead,
Ahead he saw only horizon mixed in with dancing heat waves
Played strings on his mind, expected when water depraved
He thought he had been brave, yet he was to this desert enslaved
His destiny paved, he knew he had to walk this path
Father after father, had endured the very same wrath
Without aid they wandered the forsaken highway
Night and day, till it seemed your skin was clay
But within the disarray came the visions he inherited at birth
To the clan of the desert people his journey was there worth
For the wisdom he returned with would be there survival
Upon arrival they would praise him,,,
……………………….Sometimes a tactic against a rival
at this moment he cared nothing for the vision
trouble putting feet in front of each other with precision
his decision to leave was mostly of his own…
but still he wondered why he had to do it alone
At last he came to the oasis,
Vegetation spotted certain places
Embraced by flowers flowing in the dry wind
Despite himself he grinned
Water poured into a pond with an altar
His step quickened and didn’t falter
He practically fell into the water
Gulping down swigs, between laughter
He looked up awed at the sacred relic
Now appearing before him almost angelic
A pain in his forehead stopped his thirst
The throbbing grew, feeling as if it would burst
At first it hit him with surprise, now he stood attentive
As the first images began to flicker presented
A demented scene, fire licked buildings
Dark forms moved among the streets
The beat of drums thundered in death beats
People stacked in the middle of the city
Dead and burning, he looked on them with pity
Again the vision shifted,
Now the valley stood a smoldering pit
His shoulder slumped, it was his home split
The transmitted imaged ended in a hush
He walked away soul crushed
Bearing the mark of the black skull on his forehead
His people would know, the prophecy held true as was said
The man retuning showing the mark, brought news of doom
He was the first to return without hope to resume
He turned from the waters…
Already with enough to return
He began again on his way heart full of concern
For his people no future… only destruction
And he would bring the finale instruction
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Originally Posted by Pakaveli
