| In the twilight of a time
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| There emerges a need for man to comprehend his own bitter fate
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| Finally resigned to the inevitable beyond, he searches the ages
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| Desperate for stories of assurance, redemption and hope
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| Such tales fill page upon page with enough ink
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| To flood a thousand valleys, and drown the tallest tree
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| But there is one tale that as yet been told
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| The story of… The Outsider
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| Desolate and baron, humanities at a crossroads
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| The people have retreated shuttering their once carefree lives
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| From unseen enemies which seem to plague not only
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| The physical form but the innermost thought
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| Driven by panic, compelled by dread
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| The masses begin to devolve
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| Once dear neighbours turn wary foes
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| Brother against brother, sister against sister
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| Achievement and ambition are dismissed
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| As heretical, or worse, treasonous
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| Even nature itself is scorned
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| Choked with suspicion and fear, voices do not dare to sing
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| Nor fingers to play, imminent defeat is all but assured
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| But in the darkest hour
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| Whispers begin to tell of a figure emerging from the darkness
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| A being without a name, faceless and obscure
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| Part presence, part idea they say
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| As if the very force they describe has existed for eons
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| A dormant seed awaiting nourishment word of radical acts…
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| Disobedience, non-compliance spread among the people
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| At first fearful, then defiant, as the legend grows
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| Whispers turned to cries and the cries into screams
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| And tend to cower no more the fury of the people
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| Whose talent behold as they exact revenge on their captors
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| Spare neither the repentant nor the bold
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| Now the fire is lit, smouldering in the belly of humanity
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| It cannot be extinguished, for the stories The Outsider endure
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| Even as evidence of its presence is debated with the passing years
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| Messages, dictations, warnings, stories, such as these… |