And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor….
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
E.A. Poe
When we were younger we walked paths of beauty
Up dusty steps before the sunrise
Until the sun rose over red stone arches
Through the mist of rainbows from the falls
And the golden eagles screamed over us
Flying down the long trails of morning
Though we were afraid, we thought that maybe
We knew enough and loved enough to follow the dawn
Surely there was more to our journey than
Shiny vehicles surrounded by summer lawns
Living in false palaces while the forests burned around us
Life broke us many times and our pride
Like damaged feathers pulled us down
We could not find the true song
There were strange voices from the stars
But no one believed our translations
Now we are older, our hands are worn
We are so weary
And the Raven has come
His eyes are shiny and feathers black
He moves his head to one side
With a cynical call he derides our struggles
Tells us, “No more dreaming
No more wistful stories of the time before,
Nevermore.”
Though my heart is still burning
With broken dreams and misplaced lore
I have not forgotten the cerulean blue morning skies
The voices of ancient children still singing
And my love laughing by the waters
Perhaps this old Raven will attend me
Another journey though our wings are sore
And oversee another sunrise
On those beautiful, blissful shores.
Gibbens, 2015
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 3:42 AM UTC
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor….
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
E.A. Poe
When we were younger we walked paths of beauty
Up dusty steps before the sunrise
Until the sun rose over red stone arches
Through the mist of rainbows from the falls
And the golden eagles screamed over us
Flying down the long trails of morning
Though we were afraid, we thought that maybe
We knew enough and loved enough to follow the dawn
Surely there was more to our journey than
Shiny vehicles surrounded by summer lawns
Living in false palaces while the forests burned around us
Life broke us many times and our pride
Like damaged feathers pulled us down
We could not find the true song
There were strange voices from the stars
But no one believed our translations
Now we are older, our hands are worn
We are so weary
And the Raven has come
His eyes are shiny and feathers black
He moves his head to one side
With a cynical call he derides our struggles
Tells us, “No more dreaming
No more wistful stories of the time before,
Nevermore.”
Though my heart is still burning
With broken dreams and misplaced lore
I have not forgotten the cerulean blue morning skies
The voices of ancient children still singing
And my love laughing by the waters
Perhaps this old Raven will attend me
Another journey though our wings are sore
And oversee another sunrise
On those beautiful, blissful shores.
Gibbens, 2015
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