Cynic

I touch the string though the harp may not sing
Still I dig the sky for sun sparks to guide
Down below there's a land with an ominous hole
Dug deep in the sand of belief
A million doves
Orbit round the Earth with tears of blood
Dare the virgin take integral birth
From the void I am born into wave and particle
In the uncreated light emerged an oracle
A million doves