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Tell us more, Old one-eye, Spiller of darkness Bringer of hope, Builder of men. What could I tell you, Young and agile, Dark dreams and light smiles About the pits So deep We lost their names Or the towers That rose so high We forgot about them Or the fire Intensely hot; We forgot how to feel the cold, How to embrace the night And the morning. There are tales of stars of battles And heroes of blood. There are no tales of makers of stone, Iron and wood. You are all those things, youths. You are the knot in the rope, The hand that tied it, And the mind that knew how.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
Through one eye.
Tell us more, Old one-eye, Spiller of darkness Bringer of hope, Builder of men. What could I tell you, Young and agile, Dark dreams and light smiles About the pits So deep We lost their names Or the towers That rose so high We forgot about them Or the fire Intensely hot; We forgot how to feel the cold, How to embrace the night And the morning. There are tales of stars of battles And heroes of blood. There are no tales of makers of stone, Iron and wood. You are all those things, youths. You are the knot in the rope, The hand that tied it, And the mind that knew how.
#dream#dark#nature#smile#stories#humanity#young#earth#old#light#age#creation#create#youth#tales#child#tower#artificial#pit
h-w-erellson
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h-w-erellson
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
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