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Song V - Boundless Horizon

XLI.

The fire quivered hush, in aegis, I palmed,

A lantern lit, and closely held it near,

In this dismal place, its glow left me calmed.

'As for you friend, I will not leave you here.'

His armour I removed, laid him abier,

Then watched the flames about his stoutly breast.

He gave me all, I had only a tear,

To pay my debt, I would take on his quest,

Don his heavy suit, and setting sun on my chest.

XLII.

Resolved in mind, I trudged back up the slope,

The plates were a burden, my limbs opposed,

Yet every step brought vigour sprung to lope.

My sight was naught but left the visor closed,

As ward therein, to keep my courage posed.

When I reached the tunnels, lo came a moth,

The spirit of my shepherd I supposed.

Glad company, for lonely I was loth,

Before us foul creatures fled, with lamp held aloft.

XLIII.

Our grave ascent ensued forever long,

Until light, a cave from the mountainside,

A blinding beam, then splendid chirp of song,

Emerged to morning above misty tide

Of radiant shades, bright and clear astride,

The frigid cold made sharp my breath of air.

Then fluttered out that brave moth to my side,

But lingered not, to realms I knew not where.

I too made haste, while still my wits had time to spare.

XLIV.

The light held out all through gloom and gales bleak,

Where boughs were bare without the song o’ thrush;

With lifted fog they’ll see the sun they seek.

And blooming buds will reign in gardens lush.

By flame I read my book in dimpsey hush,

Great works I knew so little of, I’d read,

Could still we paint such scenes? Had we the brush?

Few stragglers passed but paid me little heed,

A reed I was as they, but still a thinking reed.

XLV.

Upon a pool, the image showed a knight,

I laughed, was this my greatest farce and feat?

In wake of journey’s end, to see this sight!

What chance, if chance it were for us to meet!

Two wandering souls in midst of defeat,

Who found the stuff inside them of the same.

With ebbing time, my mind would come to cheat,

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

What was my task, my home, my bloody name?

Through heaving waves of stupor, my guide was the flame.

XLVI.

Familiar steps led me to that dour town,

Now festered further into sickly rot,

Beset by the great phantom bearing down.

Murk hung heavy over the sorry lot,

Hero they needed and hero they got,

Alas, his ashes lie beneath the earth.

But the stars and I will forget him not.

And I will lend my will for what it’s worth,

In hope to match his honest yolk in my rebirth.

XLVII.

The light I carried to an empty square,

The gaze of gawking idletons it drew,

A beacon bare for years, now would I flare,

I half did guess it quench as it should do,

But yet it seized the smog and only grew.

So every sconce I went about to burn,

Until the mist in every street withdrew,

And folk began to lift their heads and learn,

Of heaven and higher forms they took now to yearn.

XLVIII.

Looking up from the trough and to the skies,

Unveiled before them, a speckled complex.

I saw each star as a gleam in their eyes,

Where meaning may be found among its flecks,

And ponder their place beneath such objects,

Of what wonders lies above to explore,

For a moment where the divine reflects

To awaken the truth within their core,

And be capable of making great things once more.

XLIX.

As last the ghostly vapours burnt away,

I saw their faces brighten through the street,

They spoke and sang and children came to play,

There huddled closely knit around the heat.

And so, with first of many steps complete,

I took my leave, for still was much to do.

To find the country roads beneath my feet,

Unto further towns, and light their fires too,

Where we may conceive to begin the world anew.

L.

Alas, this age cannot forever last,

The fog assured returns again to reign,

As so it has in countless ages past,

Yet will be lifted time and time again,

With only relics of old to remain.

Despair looms, but I keep heart in the climb,

To pursue a truth never to obtain.

If fate is found in good humour and rhyme,

Then this song shall be sung until the end of time.

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