Text No.1


I have recently completed a draft of the text that will be utilized by my dear composer friend, @theferebee in a current project. While I find this highly doubtful given the unusually intelligent readership of this blog, to the extent you do not recall the specifics in regards to this project please see Parachute. I have pursued this noble calling with great vigor that resulted in several typewriter keys being broken. Given our dear friendship I determined you should be the first to enjoy this symphony of literary genius (assuming the Parachute opens. If not please do not post your comments, I probably already know).

 

Text No. 1 © 

There he stands Bent and Bronzed
overlooking St. Margaret
He was the shepherd of a nation
and battled the black dog
Destiny once beat in his breast
He rallied them all:
“Fight until hell freezes over
Then fight on the ice” beckoned his call
Tradition was his ally
Tradition his conscience
Now all that has faded into memories blight
Buried deep within texts of yesteryear’s light

There he stands Tall and Full
gazing through the square
He saw the Bent and Bronzed
finding nothing of value there
Destiny’s seed was sown soul deep
He would rally them to himself
The nation’s fire he would keep
He would need only self
He would need only one

There he stands Tall and Grey
The years broke upon him
until he could see
What he had done
What only one would be
Destiny’s seed was chaff in the wind
The soul of the nation long since past
The Bent and Bronzed beckoned him forward
across St. Margaret into the cold
“Darken Traditions door and court the past
Within her lies wisdom untold”

There he stands Bent and True
Knowledge kindled anew
“There is nothing new under the sun”
As those before and those to come
A rise and fall for each one
Herein lies the beauty of it all
What was known before can be known again

 

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