.
Worry my child for the world is dark,
Over it fell a thick veil of gloom,
But yet has to come its fated doom
For there still endures of hope a spark,
Worry child for times are indeed stark,
Only waste remains where flowers bloom
And our skies echo with endless boom
As we humans leave behind our mark,
Worry my child but do not despair,
Instead look for a way to prosper
A way to protect and save our world
From trials that are towards us hurled.
.
.
I call and call into the void
A name peculiar to my ears,
A word they say I should avoid
But that chases away my fears.
I shout and shout into a sea
Of thousands of bright stars and moons
Hoping someone will hear this plea,
Hoping for them to reply soon,
Sadly my voice echoes against
A wall of emerald and silver
– Strong standing rocks, trees that shiver –
And my answer, I have long sensed,
Shall not return to put to rest
The aching of my wounded soul
For in this infinite forest
None can keep long their feelings whole.
I call and call as the days part
A name familiar to my lips,
A word that has come to eclipse
Even the bright Sun in my heart.
.
.
There’s a leather-bound book somewhere in this world or the next
Where in gracious letters of dark red blood or gleaming gold
Are written all the things I’ve done since the day I was born
All the sins I have committed and all the oaths betrayed,
And there, on the final page, as the end is being drawn
Lies in a single word my fate, so dark and so painful.
I am no saint, ’tis the truth, and never have I been hexed,
I am no brave white knight like those in the stories of old,
Nothing but pure evil, monster full of hate, full of scorn!
My destiny was accursed for from the path I had strayed
Into the twisted old shadows long before my first dawn,
Never before had the world seen existence so baneful.
.
.
Twilight has gone and dawn has come
Both in the sky and in my heart:
Time is not yet for us to part,
We shall be still gifted with some
Bright mornings together;
I feel my spirit lift off-ground,
Soar up into the atmosphere,
And the sun’s warm light melt my fear,
I truly hope the world around
Retains this nice weather.
.
Pathetic fallacy. Or is it?
.
Le calme plane au dessus de ma tête
Attendant, cette cruelle et affamée bête
Soudain, avec une grande lenteur,
Voila ses crocs s’enfonçant dans ma chair, douleur !
Proie tentant faiblement de se débattre
Je compte chaque seconde : une, deux, trois, quatre,
Et ma vision s’efface dans le noir
De l’ennui insidieux dont ma vie est miroir.
.
.
You had it all: power, money, fame, oh… and love,
You were perfect, so pure and of us all, above
But when night came and it was time to go to bed
Your body froze, your heart came to a stop and fled.
What was it you could not bear? What dark memories,
So twisted they came haunting your night reveries?
Your soul was strong, always firmly stuck to the ground,
When did you lose yourself in this flurry of sound…?
Oh why did I not see? Did I not read the sign?
You had it all: power and love, both theirs and mine.
.
King – Lauren Aquilina
.
L’horizon à mes pieds
Ne m’entoure ni me sied,
Ma soif de liberté
Ne peut être sustentée,
À qui la voit grandir
Et, par la force, brandir
Mes espoirs et mes peurs,
Par là chassant ma torpeur,
Ne me retenez point,
Que mon esprit vole loin !
.
.
A l’heure où les fleurs fanent
Sur la tombe dorée
Et où les esprits glanent
Les bribes colorées
De souvenirs passés,
Ces corps vivants lassés
Qui marchent à pas lourds
Sur des chemins étroits
Et vivent à rebours
Le temps qu’on leur octroi,
Ne voient l’étincelante
Beauté de la galante
Dame qu’est la nature,
Reine de toute vie,
De toutes leurs envies
D’amour et d’aventure.
.
.
Let us meet again when it is all said and done
Under the lush pine tree atop the grassy hill,
Leave quarrels to the past and in the wind be gone,
Let our new friendship grow as warms the morning chill.
My heart shall be lighter then, than it is today
For among my brothers many fell in the fray
And I can feel my soul haunted by this vision.
War is not the answer but a grand illusion.
.
.
If you knew, what would you do?
Sometimes I truly wonder.
Always in the black of night
For she is ever my muse,
As I watch the sky, dark blue,
Stars and their endless yonder,
Wishing to be a brave knight
Not bearing any excuse.
What if I were brave enough?
Tell me, what would you do then?
What if I had the courage
To show, if push came to shove,
That I am not one to bluff
And to say, without the pen
– Far from its sure moorage -,
That you are the one I love?
.
Tales of Ore 