Long days ago, no man will know,<\/span> “I am a god, a dying god<\/span> His wearied chant could scarce enchant<\/span> Oneday came Fear, a sanguine jeer<\/span> She was a daughter of earth and water<\/span> His wearied chant could scarce enchant<\/span> Then came War, and the screeches\u00a0<\/span> She sunk into her sacred grounds,<\/span> “A useless god, could you not see?<\/span> “I am a god, a dying god<\/span> The silence was unbroken, no gods had then awoken,<\/span> Several years of war and tears<\/span> The god smiled, smiled at the child,<\/span> “I am the god of a tuneful chord,<\/span> His wearied chant could now enchant<\/span>
\n<\/span>If legends go this way,<\/span>
\n<\/span>There was a child of music mild<\/span>
\n<\/span>A music wild she would play.<\/span>
\n<\/span>She raised an altar lest she may falter<\/span>
\n<\/span>To alter what fate might be,<\/span>
\n<\/span>In her accord she struck a chord,<\/span>
\n<\/span>“What god, what lord could you be?”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>Of unshod feet in grass,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of a trembling note, a silent throat,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Lights that dote and gently pass.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of a proud smile that lasts a while,<\/span>
\n<\/span>The fragile sweetness of flaws,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of nameless past until they last,<\/span>
\n<\/span>The lingering last applause.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of a silent tear and a smiling fear<\/span>
\n<\/span>Sweet nothings my lady fair,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of moonlit glass and scarlet grass –<\/span>
\n<\/span>My lovely lass Cessair.”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>The descant of her race,<\/span>
\n<\/span>In all his wrong was a warlock’s song :<\/span>
\n<\/span>Her song was warpaint on his face.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>Was etched each year on her mind,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Oneday came Cold, the stories told :<\/span>
\n<\/span>They told that Spring was far behind.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Oneday came Grief, on every leaf,<\/span>
\n<\/span>They strung belief of rains,<\/span>
\n<\/span>“They break her spine and I, divine,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Assign myself with chains.<\/span>
\n<\/span>To you my muse, stay by, bemuse,<\/span>
\n<\/span>I am no use to your chord.<\/span>
\n<\/span>At your finger, no tune would linger<\/span>
\n<\/span>My Singer with a useless god.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Pray not to me, do you not see<\/span>
\n<\/span>I cannot be one to bring<\/span>
\n<\/span>Honour for you, some laurels few,<\/span>
\n<\/span>There are gods who’d hear you sing.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>A martyr of hate and guns<\/span>
\n<\/span>She smiled, and in her face beguiled,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Reviled a thousand suns.<\/span>
\n<\/span>“Madness madness everywhere<\/span>
\n<\/span>Madness all around.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Madness madness everywhere<\/span>
\n<\/span>In madness every sound.”<\/span>
\n<\/span>She laughed and laughed as a manic shaft,<\/span>
\n<\/span>She quaffed the stars, lamented :<\/span>
\n<\/span>“There is anger and hate, and death in our fate,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Artists great are oft tormented.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Through my fate, may it dissipate,<\/span>
\n<\/span>The hate that you may wear,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Let them trod on my broken chord,<\/span>
\n<\/span>You will still be the god of Cessair.”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>The descant of her lands,<\/span>
\n<\/span>In all his wrong was a warlock’s song :<\/span>
\n<\/span>Her song was ambush on his hands.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>Of undying rage, the call of the hounds<\/span>
\n<\/span>That deafened Him. “If only I could<\/span>
\n<\/span>Raise her over these lifeless mounds.”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>The grounds where music bloomed,<\/span>
\n<\/span>The God, he rose on lifeless mounds,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Where Death and Horror loomed.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>I’m a god of nothing”, he spoke,<\/span>
\n<\/span>“Tell me again what god could you be?”<\/span>
\n<\/span>She smiled, and divinity broke.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>Of unshod feet in grass,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of a trembling note, a silent throat,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Lights that dote and gently pass.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of a proud smile that lasts awhile,<\/span>
\n<\/span>The fragile sweetness of flaws,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of nameless past until they last,<\/span>
\n<\/span>The lingering last applause.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of a silent tear and a smiling fear<\/span>
\n<\/span>Sweet nothings my lady fair,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of moonlit glass and scarlet grass –<\/span>
\n<\/span>My lovely lass Cessair.”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>And the only word there spoken was the broken cry, “Cessair”.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>The world still hears tonight,<\/span>
\n<\/span>A silent chord, the empire’s rod,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Lay still in the god’s foresight.<\/span>
\n<\/span>A silent voice silencing noise<\/span>
\n<\/span>Diffused in joys his heart :<\/span>
\n<\/span>“I am Cessair, of peaceful air,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of radiance rare and art.<\/span>
\n<\/span>I am the god of a tuneful chord,<\/span>
\n<\/span>The god who in storm responds,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of ceaseless love from realms above,<\/span>
\n<\/span>I am of unbreakable bonds.”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>The Muses wild sung her fate.<\/span>
\n<\/span>“Would you leave, with music weave,<\/span>
\n<\/span>And receive libations of the state?”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>The god who in storm responds,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of ceaseless love from realms above,<\/span>
\n<\/span>I am of unbreakable bonds.<\/span>
\n<\/span>In the hours of night, you brought me light,<\/span>
\n<\/span>You bid me fight despair,<\/span>
\n<\/span>You are the god, you are the lord,<\/span>
\n<\/span>Of a ceaseless chord, Cessair.”<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>The descant of her lung,<\/span>
\n<\/span>In all his wrong was a warlock’s song :<\/span>