'Kyrie Elieson' chanted winds to water... <br />Strangled muffled-silent bedrock <br />When, manacled and shackled, it screeched, <br />'I will become... <br />The lifting rock, sightless, <br />In mist-flown premonitions.' <br />One heard...one saw... <br />Searing, scraping talons <br />Raking years in sacrifice for <br />'Christe Elieson...' <br /> <br />Winds did not pray <br />Upon waves this day... <br />For the Dragon <br />Knew thirst.<br /><br />elysabeth faslund<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/origin-of-the-flame-3/
