The Words Remain
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Bard's Words
Our language has fallen from us
On the battlefield
In the mundane
In the aftermath of battle
In fosterage of our children
To modernity’s lie
The words remain
I say them as an incantation
Willing them back into the mundane
Our stories are not in our ears
Drowned at the ford
Torn by waves
Abandoned on hilltops
Our ears deafened by the mundane
By the din of battle
Dulled by the fatigue of oppression
I tell them as an invitation
Willing you back from pain
Our songs are unfamiliar
Erased by modernity’s seduction
Erased by triviality’s shame
Erased by the tide after battle
The wear and tear of the mundane
By the fosterage of our intellect
To the oppressor’s game
I will sing them with a tongue of silver
Reaching out a golden chain
On the battlefield
In the mundane
In the aftermath of battle
In fosterage of our children
To modernity’s lie
The words remain
I say them as an incantation
Willing them back into the mundane
Our stories are not in our ears
Drowned at the ford
Torn by waves
Abandoned on hilltops
Our ears deafened by the mundane
By the din of battle
Dulled by the fatigue of oppression
I tell them as an invitation
Willing you back from pain
Our songs are unfamiliar
Erased by modernity’s seduction
Erased by triviality’s shame
Erased by the tide after battle
The wear and tear of the mundane
By the fosterage of our intellect
To the oppressor’s game
I will sing them with a tongue of silver
Reaching out a golden chain
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