Trouble looms, it appears that all is not well, yes the signs are there Servants plough the earth, masters rule their worth, all are unaware
Like a bird that sleeps, only to awake as a new found prey
Oh, Like a child standing at a deathbed not knowing what to say.
Clouds pack...Like wolves , Hunting again
Grey Days...Howling, Devoured by rain
Clothes are...Soaking, Come rain or blood
Sky is...Wounded , Trampled in mud
Running for your safety
Or hiding in your home
You’re left with indecision
In this you’re not alone
Disaster is your master
And yours is his to take
The madness builds with urgency
Detains you in its wake!
The Blade of Judgement is sharp
It cuts through it all, it cuts through you
No matter what you think (and moreso)
No matter what you do
(Choir)
Our voices lost
We’re clueless and we’re blind
Oh help us out
Oh shaman help us find
Chapter 2: The Shaman
I close my eyes and beat the drum
The skin begins to speak
It all starts with a distant hum
Like something old and weak
The hours seem engulfed by smoke
It takes patience to persevere
I beat the drum, continuously
Until it seems I’m far from here
It seems like days until I find
My mind floating in a transient place
Today is nothing but a clueless child
Consulting the ancestral ways
My superconsciousness gets so intense
As I levitate and as I transcend
I’m addressing my words to providence
Like a message to the stars it went
A swirl of voices surrounds me
Beyond language and somehow reason free
I’m letting go of all things temporal
My vision be interdimensional
(Days passed. No one heard or saw the shaman. No sign of life.
All had been instructed not to disturb him as if some dangerous exorcism took place.
Meanwhile the villagers were looking for signs of change.
Rain kept falling, washing away the crops, faith and expectations.)
Chapter 3: Panic
The Hammer of Fate is hard
It hits us all, no matter what they say
No matter rich or poor (and moreso)
No matter if they pray
Pack your things, make a move
For you may wait in vain
Cycles they shall re-occur
For sure they will happen again
(Choir)
“Behold! The river overflows !
The death knell for our hopes
The valley soon will inundate
Rain floating from the slopes
Can we be saved, where is our man
To tell us what to do?
The suffering will be unspeakable
We’re lost without a clue!”
As the water reaches the lips of those about to drown
The shaman opens up his eyes and quietly looks around
And his body aches as if he’d aged a 1000 years
And he leaves his tent to address his people with all their fears
(Something had changed however, was it him or was it time?)
Final chapter: The Past is Alive.
Astonishment, as the old turned young and the young appeared to be unborn
Servants plough the earth, masters rule their worth, with no signs that warn
And the dead were yet to die, and the river but a stream
And the sky, ‘t was clear as day, and the gloom turned back to gleam
Onward is the only way, like the young and strong proclaim
Time is of the essence, and hallowed be its name
Yet I travelled motionless, reaching for an ancestral hand
And they pulled me back in time, like upward falling sand
The Wheel of Time turns fast, the faster it is spun
It appears to be going backward, like any other one
I jumped into the illusion, as soon it reached reverse
The truth it got rewound :
The Past is Alive Again!
