Well, it's done
@yrsillar . Hope you like it.
Ballad of the Forgotten Vale
The bubbling brook announces spring,
tree and beast shed winter coats,
high peaks awash in light motes,
in low vale mists wellspring.
Fog and Shadow gaily dance,
amidst the river meadow,
in mountains shade grotto,
a formless, unseen romance.
Lonely hut among the mist,
folk who raised you gone
yet on and on, hang on,
long past due, persist.
Broken are the panes,
lost are the doors,
long since empty stores,
not a soul remains.
Never to recover,
what was lost,
long cold the trail.
None shall discover,
at any cost,
this forgotten vale.
Blue skies and mild rain,
warm winds play between
gentle white clouds unseen,
birdsong fills the domain.
No witness to deface
natures great wonder,
The vales grandeur,
this blessed holy place.
Wild beasts hunt and breed,
in the mountains shade,
amidst green forest glade,
garden overgrown with weed.
Oh, by path and lane,
so lovingly planted,
brickwork now slanted,
lost garden strain, oh strain!
Crush the weed
cleans the filth,
mend the walls
heal the tilth,
cleanse the falls;
despite it all succeed!
Rain falls heavy
from darkened sky
swollen river rushes by,
past, over, old levee.
Flooded the river plain,
struck low golden grain,
hills struggle to contain,
natures wrath played in refrain.
Heavy patter suffocates animal cries,
Darkening the forest with phantoms
Both real and imagined, lies,
Singing summer's death anthems.
Fallen leaves, blood red and gold
Carpet the churned up muddy earth,
Their death feeding, giving birth,
To new life, once death has come for old.
Endless is the cycle,
What rises must fall,
And from death comes life.
Nor beast or plant is idle,
Dedicated to service all,
To departed, man and wife.
Snow descends from high peaks,
Enshrouding in silence Hill and Vale.
Frozen streams and fields pale,
Among bare trees nothing speaks.
Tiny tracks among the roots
Trail of rare winter hare,
Passing down ancient routes,
Yet ye not of blood, beware.
Long since bound guardian,
Watcher of the path,
But be thee found unworthy,
Will face mountains wrath.
Hidden deep beneath the ice,
Master, Mistress and Heir,
They did their line bequeath
Dominion righteous and fair.
Yet lost are the legends,
Forgotten olden rites.
Distant, pauper children,
No more proper nobles,
Forsaken heritage sites,
No one to claim the past.
Never to recover,
what was lost,
long cold the trail.
None shall discover,
at any cost,
this forgotten vale.
No witness to deface
natures great wonder,
The vales grandeur,
this blessed holy place.
Endless is the cycle,
What rises must fall,
And from death comes life.
Nor beast or plant is idle,
Dedicated to service all,
To departed, man and wife.
Yet lost are the legends,
Forgotten olden rites.
Distant, pauper children,
No more proper nobles,
Forsaken heritage sites.
No one to claim the past.
