That flew from Medea
I hear them whisper
I hear them call out
where no gods or any goddess
from their voice
screams of shout
gurgle in the deep of their misery.
Help was not there,
Help was nowhere
Shunned from their light of their lives,
Soul tattered into peices,
but salvation was their blessing.
I hear them whisper in my ear saying,
Be careful what you wish for
Be careful what you speak of
Be careful how to love
I hear them
as I keep my eyes from a city far away
Though i speak in riddles of old
such things to be told,
Spake the word of unknown Oracle
as i look for myself from the past relics into my modern view
of what is new and not of old.