The Silent Soothsayer

I see an army on the march
Those generals believe they are marching to victory
And who am I to disillusion them?

My vision is a cleaver that could, with one blow,
Slice their monumental heart in two
But I keep silent, my red mouth firmly sealed

There will be no revelations from me
There will be no reverberations. I watch
As they head East, ready to slay the beast

I am curled up, in the branches
Of this old oak tree. It conceals me
This is nothing but a spectacle to me

Let them have their empire
Let them have their moment
At the centre of the stage

For I know, I am certain
That all this will be over
Soon enough and the curtain
Will fall upon them
And they will never rise again