Ramblings of a Soon Dead Bard

Though I walk in Thera from time to time.
I seem to have not music, I cannot find a rhyme.
What once I thought a blessing
Feels more now like a curse,
Someone with my life is messing
I don't want it to get worse...

Mutant beastly Fidos floating in a blood red sky.
People are now weaker, easier they die.
Life is too short to waste:
Everybody's dying.
Looking back at all I've faced,
I find myself crying.

Whither has gone honor, whither has gone magic?
Whither courage midst a life that's tragic?
Rebuilding, renewing
That which has been flawed.
Strength through weakness imbuing
Leaving the populace awed.

We set our goals and try to reach them
But all too soon are forced to beach them.
So many see despair
As shadows rise around us,
Blood flows everywhere,
And Death himself has found us.

Sometimes I think I'm crazy.
Old age makes me feel kind of lazy.
When Nazmorghul my soul takes
And binds me in the cold chain,
Will I really make breaks
And return to feel more pain?

Swirling colors, reds, blues, yellows,
Tripping, teaching, jesting fellows.
Mushrooms floating, jerkies rest,
My head hurts.
Body aging, weakened at best,
With Death flirts.

Esarvee the Undead Master Poet


[Historic Note: This is the song that caught Lord Nazmorghul's notice (his name was mentioned) and inspired him to visit Esarvee before it was time for her to die her final death. It was the first of her Ramblings songs where she shrouded truth in images, sang the blues without singing actual blues. As is true about most old people, her thoughts turned to Death and the finality of it, or possible lack of finality. Those who are familiar with Tarot know that the Death card (Major Arcana XIII) does not mean Death, but Change. This, too, was Esarvee's view of Death, and as tragic as her life had been, although she usually faced it with laughter and shrugging off the problems, she looked forward to her death as a means to put an end to the tragedy, start over, and do things better next incarnation.]


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