Man growls as the growing tyrant rages.
The wartorn streets have bloodied me
and as I am, both sides of the war
fight to survive.
...
What does it mean to come home
every night to sad faces and sullen
dreams?
...
I have strewn you, the listener, a tale of the ages, Sung from an old bard - no wizards nor mages.
And last but not least, I envy your youth, As I know that you still will vie for the truth:
The harsh, heavy water tossed upon the brig, Rattled the bars of the lonely prisoner’s cell.
...