The tale of a bard

Succinct. It can all go to hell, you understand… I have gone on and on about the minutiae of the speech. It is about the passion I reckon. Not about the accuracy. Or the veracity for that matter. Succinct. A horse it is this moment. I shall go farther than my roots. Mere sprouts they are. O if she could taste the sweat to come. Cross the land and the seas, cross them all off. A colour banner for the sons of God. Some are to reign. Some to cushion my steps. And some to die by the iron. Irony. I hear a roar. The growl of the heart. O if she saw the blood running down the world’s forehead. Hear me brothers and sisters. Deem me not the messiah, but your redeemer. Grant me your limbs and your future, so we all rise and beshadow the atrocity of past. Fear not but tremble. Cast out your hypocrisy and morality. Think not of the battle, just of the outcome. We are the dark and the light. I am your storm and your calm. Focus. Succinct. I will stand before history and replace. They will know my name. No one will be able to deny the turn of the wave I am. It can all go to hell, you understand. Yet God will look at me and smile. In derision. In surprise. In self-satisfaction. He will know my name. Off I go. Succinct.