May. 12th, 2007

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
there are tales told that we must never hear
each case is special and that is the account
questions are never asked about amount
we weight of hope is what we cannot bear
there's more to that than freight of fear
another drought will stop up every fount
no desperate wishes could reality surmount
the darkness comes as it does every year
signs of a fading age we see on every side
bugles may blow but who will rally now
drums beat but no one came to march
we've had enough even for giants' pride
no one again can fulfill such a vow
under this blaze the very seas may parch

cul-de-sac

May. 12th, 2007 10:24 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
the child that begged bread received a gnawed bone
and was told to be thankful that he was not dead
that he should cultivate a sense of proper dread
and let his heart lose warmth and turn to flinty stone
recollecting always that life is short and you die alone
the weight of centuries falls on each small head
gaunt despair remains triumphant is has never fled
a mind once hopeful becomes a killing zone
let there be justice and who should the whip escape
a proper punishment would come upon us all
there's not one here who could not understand
the reason why the monster shuns its proper shape
why the dead king returns each night to the mead-hall
or why the bitter sword will turn in its master's hand
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
though we name fears they do not ever flee
minds have now fallen from their high estate
an angry tiger prowls beneath each tree

i could long view but never feel the sea
freedom began six inches past the gate
though we name fears they do not ever flee

with the stern voice we could not disagree
what mattered was what lay upon the plate
an angry tiger prowls beneath each tree

what we would reprehend is what we'll be
when all has turned to ashes in the grate
though we name fears they do not ever flee

our proper service isn't with bent knee
nor is our purpose merely to be freight
an angry tiger prowls beneath each tree

we all must do and not take time to see
no secret messages are left upon the slate
though we name fears they do not ever flee
an angry tiger prowls beneath each tree

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