Rhythm of the beating drum

.

In this atmosphere I feel

Like a young man at the heel

Of a gigantic mountain,

Beautiful under the sky;

Of nothing I am certain

Only that I wish to try.

In this unknown maze of star

Lost in a wild sea of smiles,

I will walk farther than far,

I will cross a thousand miles,

Centuries may come and go

Before the answer to this

Great, old riddle I may know;

What, in that time, will I miss?

In my heart I know the truth

But I shall not cut the root

Of this tree yet, for my youth

Is still green and my hope strong,

I await the promised fruit,

I want to witness it bloom

Even were I to be wrong,

Even were it my own doom.

I will smile and laugh and dance

Under sun and wind and rain,

Oh I am sure of my stance

Whatever may come, sweet pain…

.


Hega hega ya-hi-ye-hega
Ya-hi-ye-ne-he hega

Be hope

.

But is it true?

Oh forever

In love with you,

For an instant

Cool my fever

– Melancholy –

Of how distant,

Or even if;

This, my folly.

You are perfect,

Upon a cliff

Of true respect;

Free from all fear,

You so, my dear?

.

A wish

.

I want it all

I want it now

I want to fall

And just allow

Myself to sink

In this deep pool

No more to think

Of when or how…

I am a fool,

That much I know:

You deserve wow

And so much more

But can I show

That I adore…

.

Gun

.

I thought this was the end

But it has just begun,

Now, in each hand a gun,

A message I must send…

There is no time to wait

For vengeance does not rest,

To some it might come late

But patience is its test;

Let us ride forth now, boys,

Death thirsts for fresh new blood

And we are but its toys

Riding upon the flood.

.

Petit enfant

.

Petit gamin insouciant s’est vu grandir

Dans un monde où personne ne reste enfant,

Sa vie et ses espoirs il s’est vu brandir

Au sommet de palais, beau et triomphant,

Mais le monde est-il vraiment ce qu’il paraît ?

Avec le Temps la naïveté disparaît

Et alors emporte tout, même les rires;

Lui, éternel, nous l’apprend amèrement

Si souvent à nos dépends, sans sentiment.

Tous les éléments se déchaînent et chavirent

Alors le si fragile et précieux vaisseau

S’échoue sur la plage attendant le pinceau

Du vieux magicien des rêves oubliés

Qui vient, parfois trop tard pour le grand sablier,

Les dépoussiérer…

.


Credit to Amearya

Heroes

.

When all hearts were empty, when all joy had long left,

Victim of the power of the world’s greatest theft,

In this soundless moment when night is the darkest,

Fell down from the clear sky the angels of star-dust

They knew not what they should be; believed what they must

To vanquish this dark foe, prevent this mad harvest,

But how will they gain trust from all those they protect?

For they are not human, therefore should not expect

Any joy at their sight, no matter if they fight

For the same side, this light, to end the livings’ plight.

In the end they might fall, lost to this great struggle,

Or they might rise and shine if they somehow manage

Their duty, their pride and destiny to juggle;

Fret not, not all is lost, they have one advantage,

One heroes always have: the power of pure hope

And none can deprive them of this long, long trite trope.

.

For it will be

.

Don’t let yourself fall over the edge,

Don’t let yourself slip into silence,

Don’t close your eyes in front of the stars,

Don’t leave your heart broken on the ground

But if you do, it doesn’t matter,

Don’t listen to the noise, the chatter,

Pull out this cold, invisible wedge,

Get up again and find your balance,

Give time to heal to your new scars,

Keep hope live, in your chest feel it pound,

Oh friend, take your time, gather your strength,

Walk, I know you can go the whole length;

Remember, happen whatever may,

In this huge world you are not alone,

Though you may feel lost in this unknown

Home is never very far away…

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Don’t let good or bad prevent you from reaching your goals or take you down for good for, whatever you believe will happen or whatever may happen in reality, it will be as it is and you will have to deal with life.

For it will be…

Of what foretold

.

Not those of gold

Not those of old

Neither the kings

Nor the younglings

None of the sold

None of the bold

Not one of those

Who ever rose

Not those who told

Not those who mold

For when the chime

Is upon time

They will be cold

And they will fold

But who will then?

The son of men.