A dry desert, oceans of dust lay around me
And I looked up and saw, The Flag of the Nobody.
The sand shifted from beneath my feet,
Stepped out a man (who I would never again meet)
He was taller than any I’d ever seen
Proud as rock, his beard flowing like a dream;
He shone his sword in the White
And sheathed it; (he did not speak outright)
But he waited, waited in silence;
Approached the skies, the wasteland’s ambience
And he looked up, and saluted
The Flag of the Nobody.
We were the Unseen, we were the Unknown,
Travelers, with no home of our own;
The man began with a voice of gray
Speaking, to let out the memories close fading away;
The Nobodies we were, Silverhands,
The faceless souls behind the world as it stands
Painting our thoughts o’er the horizon
With the Blade, that was our brush to run
We did mould, shape, and Create;
Its power, magnificent, through our eyes permeates.
‘Tis true that each Nobody walked a different path;
But we were never alone, being Brothers in part
That was eras past; the lands have been worn through
And the skies have had their share of blood to rue,
For far from here the Pretenders lie,
The sheep ambling along, following to Die.
We did once battle against the like, but nay,
Could not emerge, not that hour, nor any other day;
Dampers of the freethinkers, clouds at night
Without as much as a heart to light,
Putting out the flame in the shards of our dreams
Strewing Notion, a bed of dry leaves.
Wandered have I a thousand years,
Not one of my Brethren I found near.
Painful the thought; I am the last warrior;
Of the Sword, the Final Carrier.
I cannot let go of the stirring that my Time
Has neared; and this may well be my closing rhyme.
I have found the next holder of the Blade; so long,
And may the Legacy of the Nobody live on.
With that he presented to me his sword; turned to dust
He did, scattered o’er the land with many a gust.
I realized he had found his final resting place,
Reason, perhaps, for lines of peace on his face.
And there, I looked up, and saluted
The Flag of the Nobody.