In the twilight of a time There emerges a need for man to comprehend his own bitter fate Finally resigned to the inevitable beyond, he searches the ages Desperate for stories of assurance, redemption and hope Such tales fill page upon page with enough ink To flood a thousand valleys, and drown the tallest tree But there is one tale that as yet been told The story of... The Outsider Desolate and baron, humanities at a crossroads The people have retreated shuttering their once carefree lives From unseen enemies which seem to plague not only The physical form but the innermost thought Driven by panic, compelled by dread The masses begin to devolve Once dear neighbours turn wary foes Brother against brother, sister against sister Achievement and ambition are dismissed As heretical, or worse, treasonous Even nature itself is scorned Choked with suspicion and fear, voices do not dare to sing Nor fingers to play, imminent defeat is all but assured But in the darkest hour Whispers begin to tell of a figure emerging from the darkness A being without a name, faceless and obscure Part presence, part idea they say As if the very force they describe has existed for eons A dormant seed awaiting nourishment word of radical acts... Disobedience, non-compliance spread among the people At first fearful, then defiant, as the legend grows Whispers turned to cries and the cries into screams And tend to cower no more the fury of the people Whose talent behold as they exact revenge on their captors Spare neither the repentant nor the bold Now the fire is lit, smouldering in the belly of humanity It cannot be extinguished, for the stories The Outsider endure Even as evidence of its presence is debated with the passing years Messages, dictations, warnings, stories, such as these...
In the twilight of a time There emerges a need for man to comprehend his own bitter fate Finally resigned to the inevitable beyond, he searches the ages Desperate for stories of assurance, redemption and hope Such tales fill page upon page with enough ink To flood a thousand valleys, and drown the tallest tree But there is one tale that as yet been told The story of... The Outsider Desolate and baron, humanities at a crossroads The people have retreated shuttering their once carefree lives From unseen enemies which seem to plague not only The physical form but the innermost thought Driven by panic, compelled by dread The masses begin to devolve Once dear neighbours turn wary foes Brother against brother, sister against sister Achievement and ambition are dismissed As heretical, or worse, treasonous Even nature itself is scorned Choked with suspicion and fear, voices do not dare to sing Nor fingers to play, imminent defeat is all but assured But in the darkest hour Whispers begin to tell of a figure emerging from the darkness A being without a name, faceless and obscure Part presence, part idea they say As if the very force they describe has existed for eons A dormant seed awaiting nourishment word of radical acts... Disobedience, non-compliance spread among the people At first fearful, then defiant, as the legend grows Whispers turned to cries and the cries into screams And tend to cower no more the fury of the people Whose talent behold as they exact revenge on their captors Spare neither the repentant nor the bold Now the fire is lit, smouldering in the belly of humanity It cannot be extinguished, for the stories The Outsider endure Even as evidence of its presence is debated with the passing years Messages, dictations, warnings, stories, such as these...
