Pantokrator

The madness of nebuchadnezzar

Pantokrator
Thou, O King, art King of kings...
Thou art this head of Gold!

Dew covereth my skin as I wake up in the fields
Amongst the beasts I roam
A beast I am

My hair is grown like eagles feathers
My nails like claws of birds

Behold my howl in the night
I was warned, I was told by the prophet
Pride is madness
And madness will rob me of all

The brute of the fields
I bear the marks of the wild
I am the ghost of evening shade
For seven years I have haunted the forests
Driven out from the realm of men
Entrapped in the realm of shadows

I was told by the prophet
Humility is wisdom
And wisdom will give me my crown

Through humility glory will be mine
As I lift up my eyes I finally realise
As I praise the Lord of the heavens
The past slips away like a dream

I know who I was
I know who I am
Nebuchadnezzar
No less that a king
Now more than a man

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