There was a time when we all soared
On wings we parted air like a  graceful sword
Gathered our possessions to places anew
Above the clouds all we saw was graceful blue.

But then times turned an ominous grey
And words that were spoke turned to clay
Conversation of words became like stale water
Drowning moments granted many to slaughter.

Bone of contention and then they silently flew
Trails of smoke crossing in the sea of blue.
Fire graced and all  became but flakes of ash
Words no longer heard as all gone in a flash.

Chaos ensued as all fell to basic feral morals,  
all that was left fought in death and quarrels.
But in a darkest hour a light did gently shine,
As people once again come together and aligned.

A tornado of past confusion gently lifted,
Where their was confusion that now shifted.
A simple life, dangers in places still persisted,
But  now in the new world mostly coexisted.

I have many tales of past and present to tell
Some will give you thought to take and dwell.
I only ask for a donation of honourable grace,
When stories no longer wished, I will leave this place.