This incredibly beautiful, and true, poem by Ingiomar, speaks of the hope of a spring for our people, even in the darkest winter. May the wish in the heart of the great soul who composed this masterpiece, soon be made real.
Long have our heroes left this spiteful world
For greater struggles yet to come;
Their last spear in defiance hurled
At the dying sun.
In this, the deep midwinter of our race,
When blood of titans stains the land,
We lesser men must take their place
And ‘gainst the darkness stand.
Our fathers were the masters of this earth,
But ‘gainst the shackles of the mind
That hold their children helpless serfs,
We stand a thin white line.
When craven cowards will not heed the call,
And traitors turn their coats for gold,
We few must stand against them all,
And finally break their hold.
Our serpent foe yet revels in his might,
His every thought to our demise.
Yet morning follows ever night,
And our sun will rise.
Pictures by Odinia