'My Dear Old Friends' Poem by Rudan A. Matiga

My dear old friends, the song I sing to you;
No Gens, no Larks or Rooks can sing this way,
Before I go some words of wisdom for the day.
Be good and gentle; those who think are wiser;
Do nobler things or acts that show you nicer.

My dear old friends, The song is not a song;
If you understand something only in your way.
A lark that sings while perched above a tree,
Produced no sounds to gens below what bird;
...and man can say?
And there's a rook who's so confused, No wings;
And nothing else to boost his name.

My dear old friends, the merry making of our days,
With time constraint are soon to meet its end.
We walk into this unforgiving life we cannot win...
The mountain top, beneath the sea and o'er the land,
Where man at last under the hand of His command.

My dear old friends, if you didn't hear the song,
Hear now! I'm begging you to sing the song with me,
It's a regret you can't repeat. Oh mankind!
A Power that will give us a melody... we must await,
One grand sweet song, a harmony to all humanity;
That will linger on through this vast eternity!