A Bards Tale

There is something more, in the vastness: unexplored. A greatness that has not a name.
A world that's been denied to the rulers who seek: divination, recognition and gain.

Suppler the times when we had not a quarrel, when traverse naught halted reigned high.
Fixed is the game which the bets all been placed, and the stakes, they've been raised up to high!

Sinking our teeth into the worms that feed below us, trying to leech off our names.
Grabbing the ladder and boosting up high, only to fall to the rubble in shame.

Blossoming flowers they sooth our fall
But thorns always get in the way
Skies turn abysmal-the rain comes again!
So we sink to the depths in dismay

Feathering lightly, hushed in the dark, two thieves in the night come to stay.
Stealing the innocence residing within, purity now laid to waste.

Thrusted on top of a heap made for slaughter, the world yet to know these names.
Until sword and shield are raised, for the fight. come to rest, sleep the rest of your days.

Come to rest, sleep the rest of your days.