Jul. 20th, 2007

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
each shattered heart will be reknit
these darknesses will some day pass
the future's in a cloudy sort of glass
but opens up to humour and to wit
from past to present we've been split
from all the pleasures of our class
each one has gone with haste to grass
the lamp of wisdom has not yet been lit
a lot will happen before it can rain
thunder may warn or perhaps not
so much has still not come into my sight
answers are many but not one is plain
what we've been told is surely simple rot
and hope will not return until deep night

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
we're not yet going to toe the line
those are the things we most do show
a host of powers both human and divine
we're not yet going to toe the line

we hope to hear the furies whine
when we have reached where they can't go
we're not yet going to toe the line
those are the things we most do show

the journey's neither fast nor slow
each drop of rain has said its piece
the gutters with fresh water flow
the journey's neither fast nor slow

we hope for a more earnest glow
before we reach the point of ease
the journey's neither fast nor slow
each drop of rain has said its piece

we know we're standing at the crease
waiting to hit the next straight ball
the game's like life it won't yet cease
we know we're standing at the crease

the rules we have can't keep the peace
nothing we've had prevents the fall
we know we're standing at the crease
waiting to hit the next straight ball

who knows just where we hear the call
nor how we tell the coarse from fine
myriads of voices fill each hall
who knows just where we hear the call

what matters is that we stand tall
not bending when we near the shrine
who knows just where we hear the call
nor how we tell the coarse from fine

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

each sound that shatters normal calm
marks one more change that we will see
no human hand leaves nature be

work seems to give each heart its balm
we know the way these creatures flee
each sound that shatters normal calm

not one of us can bear the palm
we seem to fear the noblest tree
echoes remind us we're not free
each sound that shatters normal calm

Vivat rex

Jul. 20th, 2007 06:12 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

When you're the king you see no flaw
in saying your strength's just divine;
if you decree things it's just fine
to say that you're beyond the law.
Now though this sticks in every craw
all you've to do is toe the line
keep silent, never think to whine
and let his lies fill up your maw.
We call that george, and simply wait
to see the king come forth in power;
we know he'll keep us safe and free.
There's nothing for it, it's just fate,
but we've the right to cringe and cower
while nooses hang from every tree.

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

the winner always rides a skinny horse
one that eats more than its frame can explain
it's hardly able to complete the course
the winner always rides a skinny horse

justice must always stand aside for force
our friends seem able to inflict most pain
the winner always rides a skinny horse
one that eats more than its frame can explain

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
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