09 October 2009


this is the moment when the banner falls

into the dust we call the battle lost

let our swords rust and rue the total cost

repenting anger and regretting brawls

each of us back to our home cavern crawls

lacking all trust not seeing that the crossed

sigils of lust all marked now by hard frost

no longer point toward ancestral halls

no struggle that we win nor war we lose

has meaning now the season's not so ripe

as it was then in the full grip of youth

nor have we got the honest force to choose

but must it seems remain to carp and gripe

regarding what it means to speak the truth

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