Singing and dancing oh that bragrat could do,

In the tavern he tells his tales as he drinks,

Flaunting his wealth to every man thats inside!



Killing a dragons what he boasted about,

Little he knew of the gazes men had,



Sharpened are gazes of the people in there,

As they drank the mead that was paler than white!



Merriment was the theme that prevailed there,

in the tavern till the first stroke of moonlight.

Now it's time to retire and sleep in our beds.



The owner had cleaned up the empty bottles,

Silence was there in the tavern that night,



Yet why is there sounds of the metal that clunks?

Sharpened are daggers not only the mens eyes.



In the night the next day the tenants now drink!

A barrel of mead that as red as mans blood,

It's given to each of the drinkers in there.

For it is;

What men seek crawling at dawn.

Whether it is simple truth.

Try struggling, for this is work.

Tears shed from the previous dusk,

drench the cloth their heads rested.

For dawn is when men must crawl.



For it is;

Why must men rejoice at sight?

Was it due to ignorance?

They struggle, after morns' bread.

Tears  shedded now bask in light,

driven by fear makes reason.

For morns' bread will give men strength.



For it is;

When fleeting feelings men felt,

would dry the basking tears shed.

This is when the men will know.

The men shall know what is Will!

Driven by a piece of bread, yes,

For that piece of bread filled men.



For it is;

Why must men walk after meal?

Was it to gain another?

They have struggled for one piece,

The piece that seemed like a meal.

Do it once more. This cycle.

For we are but mindless men.



For it is;

What is it that needs doing?

Whether it's easy or hard,

the men wait, and do whats asked.

Then, men are given the bread.

Driven by hunger gives reason.

For tears drench the cloth no more.



For it is,

cloth that soaked, not the mens tears,

cloth that soaked sweat of bodies.

Struggle they do, for a piece.

Yet struggle they should not! Why?

Drool for meals, not just a piece.

For Hunger shall make men walk.



For it is

cloth once bathing in sweat. Now,

cloth is drying mens stained sweat.

Crimson hue now paints not men,

but the meal they desired for.

For hungers reason is vile.



For it is,

just simple nature of men.

Now dusk returns bringing fear.

As light is slowly eaten.

Men standing on their two feet.

Trembling, they raises their hands.

Offering a piece of bread.



For it is;

now light is disappearing,

inevitably for men,

as mens feet cannot hold them.

Crawl once more then! Now feast!

On the meals you have hungered.

For it is but simply, Truth.

Drifting winds of night,
Dancing through the leaves and trees.
Yet whistles with fright.

In every stroke,
the rivers flow grew stronger.
Each instance became vivid.
Both flora and fauna thrived.
Lush green everywhere,
while animals frolicked.
The lions could hunt with ease
in the silence,
too silent perhaps.
On the wall, inside the cloth,
where even thunder can't escape.

Fleeting feelings running, crying within;

Repeating feelings chasing, gasping again.

It's the first time mother has  rejoiced...
You could feel the power from her sigh,
it was a sigh of relief...
The trees swayed in violent awe,
even the clouds cycled a pathway...

After countless decades of silence,
when mother just watched.
She did nothing. She couldn't.
But now, everything has changed.

The pain of her children now heal ... slowly...
yet the scars remain, they're proof.
Their eyes have begun sparkling... dimly...
as they stare in anticipation!

It's because of mothers return!
After countless decades, a part of her has recovered!
The fear her children felt, it dwindles to worries,
the lands scars healed, but now...

The sea couldn't cry for mothers return,
It's serene windy nights are replaced by gargles,
gargles of the scabs that Land threw into it.
For this grand welcome Land made...
Sea had to suffer the wastes