Legion Of One

I stand here alone, for I’m not nearly

Not the strongest, but in mind and heart

Not the wisest, but of knowledge of change

Not the friendly one, for I speak the truth

I am the Critique of Pure Reason

I am an Army of Me, a Legion of One

They come by day, then by night

They charge, and storm, and scream

I raise my sword, my sword of words

The battle cry has been rung, the war begun

I am the Wielder of Harshest Truths

I am an Army of Me, a Legion of One

I stand and wait

I close my eyes, eyes full of the Rage

I stand and wait

For the Fires to consume me in their gentle heat

I am the Epitome of Patience

I am an Army of Me, a Legion of One

You take it, every last thing

The Gifts given to us before

Before our eyes closed, closed to hide from our Disgrace

My Gifts have been weathered and worn

I am the Giver of Life’s Gifts

I am an Army of Me, a Legion of One

He comes from beyond the Great Hill

He comes for me, me in my solitude

I stand ready, ready to meet him

Ready to serve for Eternity

I am the Slave of the Reaper

I am an Army of Me, a Legion of One

I am the Critique of Pure Reason

I am the Wielder of Harshest Truths

I am the Epitome of Patience

I am the Giver of Life’s Gifts

I am the Slave of the Reaper

I am an Army of Me

A Legion of One