Fenwyn's Lament

Fenwyn’s Lament

All ye who dwell upon the land in blissful harmony,
Have yet to know the pain of those who fly above the sea.
The pain of those whose feathered wings do flutter in the sky,
Of those who plummet lifelessly when wars cause them to die.

I bring a tale to all who read, a tale of truth and lies.
A story of the people whose wings do flutter in the sky.
Of the winged elves, of me and mine,
And all who’ll follow on,
Of the lives we live, and the lives we take,
And all that now is gone.

Once when a great race we were,
Our prowess was renowned
And our architecture soared, up to kiss the clouds.
We lived in peace, and love was free,
For eternity we had,
But now it all has gone to ruin,
Nought but rubble on the sand.

Many great wars did then progress,
And thousands there did die.
Their bodies pierced, they fell like dolls,
‘Til on the earth they did lie.
Our blood did pour in endless streams,
Like rain down from the clouds,
But more than blood was lost then and there,
We also lost a crown.

A golden crown, our symbol,
Our royalty’s décor,
With which without we doubt our golden age will e’er return.

So treat this short lament of mine as a warning pure and true,
For I tell stories of our past, to guide the young and few
This world of which I write is lost for ever now.
Yet hope remains for those who see beyond what they are told,
For those can understand that not all kings wear gold.