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It starts with the drums
The echos, the thumping, the noise
The vibrations
Then comes the rain
It falls, it splats, it puddles
In a cleansing
The waves rise
From the foams with a dance
They crash in anger
And the ship wubbles
It fights through the hysteria
tranquility
And the drums thunder
Like cannons, like explosions
Creating fear
And the storm is born
The winds blow it everywhere
In purple colour
Darkness swallows
For the bustling city
The destination
For all must be fought
To reach Byzantium
And see the glory
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