Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

A Writers Note OPD: Wednesday April 25, 2007, 1:01 pm


My way of speech,
Does not sing
Nor does it always please the ear
But it does echo

Echo with sounds of that brilliant blaze
The true Glory of the old wars
When Honor was as Law
And Valor and Cunning Prized above all

Like the moments of the warrior in battle
The memories Now known for Sleepless nights
And Terror Filled Years of Nightmares and flash backs

Moments once prized
Now silenced by common norms

Yet in my minds eye I still see these glorious moments
That would have echoed in the songs of bards
As they Sat in the halls of Kinsmen in and far

When virgin steel meets the enemies tempered blade
And the sight of an enemies final weak moment
That always Spurred the beast to take its due

It would have been my gift to re-tell the stories told there after
If I my self did not fall,
Upon the spears of whatever enemies We faced

But such is not the way of fate
So instead I give what little taste I can
Of glory lost and not quite forgot.

Even in dark times
When madness takes up the reapers blade
And calls out with some sick thought of justice
When Solace should be the hymn sung threw out
I chose instead to stay my course and speak on of old glory

Battle of honor
Where men stood face to face
And readied them selves to die
Yet not ready to let go of there lives

Battles for homes
For Empire
For Country
For Self

In the end that was always the greatest of stories
The battles fought for home and family
The prizes wrought of the end of an unjust empire

The look of a child seeing his father
Coming home from the glory
A husband returned to his wife
Wealthy with new found riches

The Spoils of war
A well needed drink
To calm an old thirst

And leave behind shackles
By which many where chained
With a false sense of freedom
But that is not the tale which is,
Wanted to be told

Rather people wish to hear
A reinsurance of victory
Though they would know it as lie
The ‘Good’ light
The ‘Pure’ Light
In which history tells

The light of the victor
As is the was of battle
Though those who are beaten still tell tales
Of there heroes in secret
Righteous in there own rite

Truths hidden but not quite forgot
With this reminder