The Silent Traveller Poem by Prince Rodoki

The past is now gone
Like a night with a sun;
Its deeds in a song
Fondles a ready tongue....

The past like a mast
Crumbling in the mist- fast,
Yet to its reins hold
New beauties odd or bold;

The past like lovers
Pausing time that hovers;
Tyranny crowned king
That claws his prey to sing.

The past with its cast
Of weirdest plays that last
In weak minds that find
A hope long left behind.

The past, the past lives
And with tied hands it gives
Strength or death and death
To those here or beneath.

The past makes no friend
Nor a foe men attend,
Just mem'ries that rhyme
With life's swift passing time.

The past is a road;
A traveller with load
In quest of a day
Where paths may lead to way.

So on this lone road,
As time stops to unfold;
Like one sunny night,
The past is gone from sight.