That good feeling
It's sadened in the face of glory,
Capricious in the gauntlet of fear,
And a feathered man dangling from strands of hair.
Yellowed in a mouth of foul,
Copper lining the walls,
And red in my ears.
Gothemed in the berg,
Sinking to the floor,
A mountain of disbelief and despair.
Forgotten and afraid,
In what was left before the end,
A god of the people,
Left now bare.