Serpent, eagle, and mankind,
Bound together at dawn's break,
Nectar of truth, fruit of the tireless mind,
Scourge and pleasure the pen shall make.
Iron now seethes, the omen's sign,
Minds selected in storms' design,
A cleansing wind of the dead's domain
Reaps fruits corrupted, foul, and vain.
The rays of the great noon take flight and gleam,
They cast their glow on the massive, carved tombstone,
Upon it, victory shields of noble esteem
Of the great murderer, the ram on his throne.
Laughing cynically once more,
Divine epitaphs' measures roar,
A final bridge unites two lands,
Today and tomorrow of natural man's demands.
Let them be insurmountably right,
Raw, bathed in humanity's blood and light,
Ages will testify in hidden, covert ways,
By chance, they were spoken too early in the haze,
And thus misunderstood in their endless days.
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