[Symphony of the Silk-Photograph: Movements 1 - 11]
Movement One: Birth of the Paragon
The blistered bells of this lonely night
are but to ring the approach
of the chosen one:
[Precious with his salesman smiles
and sickening forethought of what�s to come]
His silver bow, lining the floor beneath
his feet, born into a family of
insufficient wealth:
[Delicate as a flower on a soft autumn
night, they are afraid to tell the story]
A blasphemy of unaccounted proportions
lies in the hands of this corrupted figure,
hiding himself from the vision of the world
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
When did the sun burn out?
Movement Two: The Lost Prophets� Call-to-arms
Trumpets call to the tune of
a thousand whistling bows
and hearts burning a fiery rage
of hatred and desire
Torches lit aflame have
engulfed this media frenzy,
as the prophets hang their heads
low, for they warned the world
many times; undignified ears,
[Driven, by greed and ignorance]
ignoring these precurses of a
shameless red, and following their
own sinful deeds
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
Hue-less hymns burden us all.
Movement Three: Entranced Exile of Defiance
Grown and raised by the evil-minded,
our hero faces great adversity, and many
troubles lye ahead on his journey:
[So long we have dreamed of
someone to take on this demanding
task, which has left many in darkness]
Fleeting to the hills, of his ever-beloved
home, he waits for the cover of night to
make his exile from his homeland:
[A place he, sadly, will never lay
his conscious eyes upon again]
The falling of the sun behind the cover
of the horizon, signals his retreat, and
he starts towards his destiny; it awaits
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
When did we blind the stars?
Movement Four: The Tragic Eulogy of a Distressed Nation
Take a gander, over the distant hills
and roaring seas, to a place cursed
into a poisoned land of desire and
destruction, for here is the scenery
our hero has foreseen in his darkest
dreams and nightmares
War cries echo the melody of ten-
thousand screaming children
witnessing the valiant demise
of the home they�ve known not
long; deaf ears have begun to fall
[With the decency to spare the
lives of the hollow heart]
upon the population of the world,
something is coming to blow our
perception out of this world and
into another, pray that he can save us
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
Brass trumpets blow with the wind.
Movement Five: Perseverance
Here we join our hero, on his
dreadful journey, struggling
with the demon inside himself
Insidious shrieks of a painless
wonder, filling the void, giving
him strength to press on, in this
age of betrayal:
[A time without a Christ]
A world of lost souls, and fallen
pride, and he has shown the courage
to save them all
With strength anew, he keeps to
his path, and follows in the footsteps
of the messiah
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
When does the beginning end, and the end begin?
Movement Six: Destiny Awaits its Christ
Seven years past, since our hero set
out from his homeland; seven years
since he has forsaken his past
Accompanied by many, to witness the
great miracles he has promised, he trudges
on, towards his destination, reaching it upon
the third day of the fifth month, he preaches peace
He enters a world cursed with crimson tears,
the fallen are all about him, death and decay
are part of the everyday life:
[Horrendous shades of black and red]
he sees the children, through his glossy
eyes, picking at the body of a dead soldier,
grasping the maggots as they flee from the attacker,
and eating them, for they have nothing else to eat
[These people need his help, and
he shall give it to them]
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
The blasphemy of the gutless hero.
Movement Seven: Teachings of a Savior
Saving the people of this wasteland,
he preaches the morals he lacked
as a child:
[Hypocritical in a sense]
Telling them the ways of his old home,
[Hunting food, and making clothes,
cleaning homes, and moral choices]
he shows them the way to cleanliness, and
the ways of a sinless world
They speak of the ones who come
to slaughter their men, and rape
their women; he promises to
stand amongst them shall they return
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
Killed by an angel.
Movement Eight: Stillness of Eternity
The messiah:
[Dressed in garbs of war]
sits mounted atop a wild beast, waiting
for the enemy�s silhouetted shadows to
appear on the distant horizon
Many cower in fear, and flee into
the forest surrounding the town,
many still stand among the chosen
one, and wait their future, whether
it be victory or death, they shall
stand with him until the end
The army appears in the distance
and charges forth, to the final battle
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
At the end of the day, do you know who you are?
Movement Nine: A Picturesque Battle of Conflicted Minds
The battle rages as the two armies
collide in a twisted sculpture of
misplaced memories
[Lost upon the ocean breeze]
Solid clouds of dust form in the air
blocking the view:
[Like how the fog rolls in on a cool
winter morning]
Shrieks and screams of pain resonate
throughout the battle ground, as the
soldiers fight valiantly for what they
believe is right, never stopping to
think if the other side has a valid point
They will end up the slaughtered, losing,
not only to the opposite army, but to
themselves as well, failing their families
and the possibility of harmony and peace
They do not care at all
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
When will the pain stop?
Movement Ten: A Rockstar Autopsy
The dust cloud breaks and what
remains is a sad look at the inner
consciousness of man, our hero
grasps for air to cool his burning
lungs, for has fought courageously
Piecing together his thoughts, with
his dying breath he reveals the truth
to all who care to hear it:
�The enemy you have feared for so long is really
yourself, you have feared the consequences of
your own actions and created this image of power-
hungry barbarians to take the fall for your own sins
I was a fool to think I could turn your path, for you
are too stubborn to follow my teachings; Ignorance
is bliss�
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
Curse the skies with the rage of ten-thousand screaming stars.
Movement Eleven: Symphony of the Silk-Photograph
Now this is were we leave our tale, the
heavenly funeral of our fallen hero:
[Brass trumpets blow with the wind]
We find ourselves asking questions:
[When did the sun burn out?
When did we blind the stars?]
We�re all striving for more, and we
forget to take a moment, and think
if we really need it, or if perhaps
someone else requires it more
[At the end of the day, do you know who you are?
When does the beginning end, and the end begin?]
The blasphemy of the gutless hero
has been killed by an angel
When will the pain stop?
Curse the skies with the rage of ten-
thousand screaming stars, for they
deserve to rot in the hottest corners of hell
Hue-less hymns burden us all
The storybook�s been read,
and every line believed;
the education of the dead
Where will it leave you?
t.seymour
12.16.2002