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The Prophets

Пророки

There are some prophets still among us,
Although the altars now are gone.
Their eyes are deep and they are lustrous
With flaming future of the dawn.

But victor’s call is alienating,
Unfathomed words on them bear down,
They’re pale, and find intimidating
Oppressive houses in the town.

And sometimes ’midst the storm’s dejection
A prophet, whom we do not know,
Will cast blue gaze in sky’s direction
And eyes like radiant crystal glow.

He says that he is quite demented,
But that his soul is full of grace,
That in his fevered mind, tormented,
He’s seen Messiah’s shining face.

The Master’s Dreams have many faces,
The Giver’s Hand is kind and free,
And there are prophets still in places
Like him, who only virtue see.

He says this world is getting better,
That he’s the prince of Future Dawn…
But only sprites of dark tower’s fetter
Attend, and they react with scorn.

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