The hollow loss has crept into my life
And shaped it to be it's home
I fall asleep into a tar black hole

And wake up into the shades of the past day

I am centurion

For there are hundreds of me alike

Here today gone tomorrow

Born of emptiness and sorrow
Into sadness and shaded lot
Hollow realm devoid of deeper thought


One of millions points of darkness
A diamond in sand though


I am centurion
There are millions of us

Ordering our one-manned armies
I am my own subordinate and superior


Unnamed army of indifferent swords
Summoned to gather upon the shore
No servants they need, no lords

As obedience to themselves they swore

Past centuries were my shelter

Brought up by stone statues I was
Fed on dew that hasty night left
I have been forsaken by Light


Clad in century-old armour
Corroded by acid of memories

Covered in rust of my anger
Here I rise - centurion


Against hope, against dreams

For suppressed will I fight

Confined imagination
And, oh, upright pose


Retrieve the mind equilibrium
Revive words their might
Give the night it's moonless darkness

And the warriors the cause to fight

My summoning call dies into the sky-high wall of groans

The orphaned widows mourn their youth
The silhouettes of swords buried in memory
Are cutting through the realms' screen

To stop the rocking of the empty cradles
Stone hits the stone, the clatter, as hypnotic chant, fades in blizzard's spell
Ecce Centurion, marching with his alikes

I am Centurion
And there are millions of us