Sonntag, September 26, 2010
A different march
Now that we pooled our tears and nearly drowned,
let's move on forward to the west. We birds, unfeathered,
flee the nest and: forward ever, never rest.
A darker winter is in sight
but we will find a brighter bright,
a blinding dark, a shady white,
so let's keep flying through the night.
Now that the journey seems to end, it only has begun,
the roads unroll beneath our feet, we only need to
carry on as one determined to succeed.
A brighter summer is in sight
and black will be the shortest night,
a shady gray, a blinding white
and enemies galore to fight.
Now that we've shed our fears and kindly frowned
upon the rest, who thought it best to stay behind
we find it hard to think we might get lost.
A bitter frost is rising from the east
and never satisfied the beast
whose only purpose is to feast
on those who are defended least.