Walpurgi Flame from II by Mother Turtle

The road is winding
And they take me to my last home
I’ve always known that god is absent
In this world I feel so small
People judging never looking at their sins
Pointing fingers, giving gruesome grins

Endless crowds of unknown faces
Passing me by every day
Always busy always on the run
Each one
A chosen one
A lover, a mother, a sinner or a saint

Scared and lonely, familiar faces
Hunting out gold every day
They need somebody to stand beside them too
Each one a chosen one
A lover, a stranger, someone to hold their hand

My whole existence
A fragile poem of inner flame
All my lords and masters
I’ve met them all and laughed at their face
The words I speak will fall into deaf ears
The song I sing will echo through the years

The weight of the soul
Is measured upon the scale
My skin in transformation
As it turns to red from pale

The shadow of the mountain
Falls upon the stake
And the crescent moon is rising
As I accept my own fate

I have foretold the fire
And the pests in harvest’s time
The winds that swept the country
The crimson king’s high prime

The sigil of the fox
Marks the shadow, marks the flame
The grim but gentle words
Rise the fire, spin the clocks

Nothing comes from Nothing ends in Nothing…

• Greece
• Progressive Rock
• Rock
• art rock
• avant garde
• prog rock
• Thessaloniki