The past is a string of struggles,
A cycle of triumph, defeat, stalemate.
What was done, and why, and how
And while
One lesson was learned, another was forgotten...
Lovely ancient pageantry
Wiped away by war...
Customs crushed,
And sacred secrets
Locked under vaults of earth and dust...
Epic legends and magical dreams
Fade away, more victims of time
Proud warriors, heros, nobility--lost--
Fallen to the cold wave
Of evil to come...
Aged Battlegrounds
Lovely eyes of the storm
Could not keep us warm
Because we could not help
But look away
And forge ahead.
The tide of blood and tears and fears
Crashes over the aged battlegrounds...
What was is no more--
Washed away into oblivion...
I am sad and glad
We cannot go back through history,
And yet...it inevitably
Repeats.
c. elyzsia 2001.
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