Thor8
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2008 |
| Total Posts: 225 |
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| 20 Jul 2012 12:19 AM |
(The poem below is actually based on an old Winnemem Wintu story I was told a long time ago. It's fairly interesting, so I decided to make a short poem out of it. It has to do with their ancestral belief that the world used to be home to a type of water "Spirits" (Sirens, however you interpret it). Hope you enjoy it!)
We used to sing in the same rolling oceans Eons away from the pain of wait for day Breath of the sea unto the waking waters Brings me to think, wishing for the blue memory
We used to think the ocean was forever So far away from the sorrow and dismay Sigh of the deep heard through the breaking waves Sings me to sleep, dreaming of the blue memory...
My heart, fleeting ever My soul, dying never Our world was brought together Then crushed like brittle heather My home, torn in sorrow Gone cold unto tomorrow Kindness cannot be borrowed My home has not been harrowed
Now we awake, brought unto the present of our sea Nothing it seems but a fracture of our dreams Lost in ourselves, without signs or identity Too far we delved, struck in two by a helve
Brought to the light, we burned in its glory Too long it seemed that we wallowed without mean Now that we rise, we see what has become of us Our home now dies, retribution of our lies...
What have we seen? What have we done? Why do we now burn in the presence of the sun? And now it seems too long we dreamed For the world has changed since it last begun
The sea now sleeps and the world is round It appears that the answers we sought were found Our race of cold has been unbound And the oceans have turned to a slumbering sound Why were we chosen to pay for the sin? Why now is the price payed by our kin? It feels as though our world was skinned And the oceans we swam were long since thinned...
Now we have seeked we have finally found the answers Our home has changed since we last came We dreamed too long, thinking we were forever We sang a song, but to the ocean it belonged
Our home is weak, but it can be remade Though is is fell, it is nothing close to Hell We can now see our dreams and our glories But for this to be, we must leave the blue memory...
My heart, fleeting ever My soul, dying never Our world was brought together Then crushed like brittle heather My home, torn in sorrow Gone cold unto tomorrow Kindness cannot be borrowed My home has not been harrowed |
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| 20 Jul 2012 07:20 AM |
| That was just ....beautiful :D ! You have a true talent . |
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| 20 Jul 2012 10:26 AM |
| That was an amazing poem, very touching. :) I agree with braindndese, that was beautiful! Only a person with true talent could write that. I love it! :D |
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Thor8
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2008 |
| Total Posts: 225 |
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