Silver wings circle
Portents of a strange past returning
Over bones of crippled behemoths
I tread through the mire

In the mists, I can feel it
Looming as a vulture
Eyes fall upon me
Searching, shifting in judgement
So small, so weak
Pale in the dimming light of æons
Near the river, I see it
Jet black and silent
Approaching, I'm diminished
By mysteries of 10, 000 ages

I cannot remember
From where I came
And I cannot remember
Who I once was

The slow march of time
Turns even the greatest of triumphs
To nothing
Nothing more than sand
Washed into the infinite sea