Orphic

We rouse, in our bygone memory
Persisting along, a perpetual reverie
The only belief, the world is to thee
Is all, this seriatim of belief will ever be

An earnest strive, for a ceaseless crave
Is faith bred over a foolish embrace,
Inciting an epitaph of fables on a grave,
A lasting yearn turned a fallow daze

We serve thee, with uncertainty so profound
In hopes of satiating a heart, not being bound
With our fellow crusaders, we go round and round
For some glimmer of a glorious reason to be found

Tainted ambitions as vast as a sea
Are decree for a mortifying recipe,
How assent upon a greater will be
One eating away at a fleeting fallacy

Our fellow brethren are the ones we lave
Along silly spite birthed of trifling malice
Festering away, be it master, be it slave
Lowly subsiding with our minds set ablaze

Petty ideas followed to be laughed and frowned
Are the very artifacts, that make our world go round
Do deem what goes away, thereon comes around
Like the ideals we left abaft, as a king was crowned