03-10-2016, 12:12 AM
What use have I for all the gold of Troy?
These weary eyes see not its ancient gleam.
Where once the verdant grass of Hope did grow
Now stare the dry and cracked weeds of Doom.
The cruel winds of Age now roam the fields
Where once Youth’s zephyr played his gentle tunes.
These courtyards, once so full of wine and song
Now lie forlorn, their walls bereft of hope,
And dust from long-lost battles settles still
Upon the fallen ones we loved so well.
Yet through the dark and perilous corridors
Our children stride, their youthful heads held high,
And bear our faded hopes and dreams with them
To brave new worlds beyond the distant stars.
These weary eyes see not its ancient gleam.
Where once the verdant grass of Hope did grow
Now stare the dry and cracked weeds of Doom.
The cruel winds of Age now roam the fields
Where once Youth’s zephyr played his gentle tunes.
These courtyards, once so full of wine and song
Now lie forlorn, their walls bereft of hope,
And dust from long-lost battles settles still
Upon the fallen ones we loved so well.
Yet through the dark and perilous corridors
Our children stride, their youthful heads held high,
And bear our faded hopes and dreams with them
To brave new worlds beyond the distant stars.