The Phantoms of a Thousand Years

Oh how they mock these heartfelt dreams

In play upon my wrist

Like dance of knights to represent

The ecstasy I’d kissed


Three fingers rise to strip away

The webs which we conceived

Within our minds when we inclined

To practise to deceive


What irks me though is that these words

Seem now so second hand

And though the hand was also mine

You chose to countermand


Counterpoised twixt now and then

Like logan stone on hill

Where ravens perch and gently rock

The triumph of my will


Sovereignty stirs below my feet

She sings a sweet and bitter air

To tell of Luca’s ‘deeds’ made flesh

To tell of guarded souls laid bare


Oppression, flood and famine

War and wealth and wrath

This bondage you have chosen

Is the dark and downward path


This flesh and blood is mortal stuff

And wont to decompose

To energy from whence it came

And on the story goes


© Chris Bond — 23 September 2002