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Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Chronicle Keys


Through the morning mist
The shouts of the golden horns
draw the curtain of dawn

Over the night frost
The dew on the silver thorns
brew the gown of twilight

Cycling suns and stars
My footsteps never paused and never halted
Where is my destination
What will be my consolation

Ambition makes me sneer
Despair makes me hollow
Indignation makes me screech
followed by endless sorrow

It is too late to stop
It is too late to return
Maybe the road is full of madness
But there is nowhere to turn

Straightforward I say
Into the dark and uncertain fray
Even gods I will slay
If they do stand in my way

But no, this is not what I wanted

"Neither elegance nor dignity,"
fury stroke a march on cord
Give me instead,
a method to make a gentler world

A song that will free the hearts
A song that will link our hands
Turn another page in the chronicle
Turn another key for a future
not ordained by an oracle

I offer my prayer and my labor