Monday, August 19, 2013

A Bard's Telling

It's Hannah! Today I have a poem, or perhaps a legend or lore or ballad. I've been trying to think of the word for quite sometime. Perhaps an epic. For the past few days I've been calling it "A Bard's Telling".

It's dictated by Ohana Lost-tide, the scribe from this post, and tells the first part of the tale of the Dragon War (a battle in my second book).
From coast to coast of the darkened land
The swords were passed from hand to hand
And ferry the news to hall and home
The devils are arrived to roam
To kill and crush and raze and burn 

A demon-king beast and blight of doom
Will raze the earth beneath our moon
Songs of mourning as warriors die
Mothers wail and children cry
Breaking of day, horrors to light 

As angers awaken
And fury will flame
For young children taken
The killers to blame

A righteous blood-wrath 
Will every face pass
For demons who dare
To darken our path 
As children of light
Lift eyes to the moon
And pray to the Lord
To save us from ruin

The heads of the family
Rise up to the call
To join with the thousands
To fire and to fall

Mothers and wives
Cling to husband and child
Songs of lamentation
Ascending and wild

Mingle with fading voices
Of men whose hearts burn
For a family to whom
They will never return

“So pull back the bows,
And let up a prayer,
Release bolts of death
Winging into the air.
Let’s summon our hearts
Unfailingly brave,
Remember our comrades
Who went to the grave.

“This is our land;
It was won by fair blood
Of our ancestors grand,
Long returned to the dust.
And these are our children;
They will not see death.
We will stand by to guard them
To our final breath.

“So pull back the bowstring,
And send up a cry,
To our faithful God,
That He won’t let us die.
And summon your hearts
Unfailingly brave,
Forget not your comrades
Who went to the grave.

“And these are our lives; 
They will not be controlled
But by king and by God,
And hearts cannot be sold.
And this is a home,
Ere protected with love.
If you steal it away,
You can bet there’ll be blood.

“So raise up the shields,
And raise up a shout,
With cries strung with victory
Let courage ring out,
And summon a song
Unfailingly brave,
To honor our comrades 
Who went to the grave.”

I've had a bit of practice doing poems, but this may very well be the first that I finished without a modicum of ridiculousness. I may later put on some of the others I've done, if I judge them not too gory or insanely strange (really, I've rewritten Clementine as a story about a gluttonous daughter of a rich guy in London).
This was heavily inspired by what I remember from reading Beowulf, and I was careful not to turn flippant, because, after all, it's an epic about a battle, and while battles are often told to be full of glory, they're definitely very frightful and devastating. I was also inspired to write a melancholy narrative-like poem by songs like Misty Mountains (I like Stephen J. Anderson and Shaun Canon's version), Tale of The Tongues, Age of Aggression, and Age of Oppression from Skyrim (look up Malukah's version on Youtube!). I actually have a recording of me singing the last part of the poem to the tune of Age of Aggression - or Age of Oppression, not sure which -that I am not going to put on here (so please don't ask, you'll be disappointed).

So what do you think? I seriously love comments and feedback. Just don't ask for aforementioned recording.

Sosrin God ignt eht ceallian,
(To God be the Glory)

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