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