CASTLES OF GREY

 

Once long ago a story was given,

From father to son the legend was told,

A box held the secrets from a prosperous age,

when there was peace, and wisdom, and fortunes of gold.

Now the box was hidden in the forests of yonder,

and no one knew where exactly it lie,

On this Island divided by two different kings,

Yet their people were the same so I don't know why.

But they began to believe the things they were taught,

And learned that they needed much more than their brother.

Fame fortune and glory they would search for the box,

Surely the victor would have more than the other.

 

Castles of grey and knights of silver,

Dreams took to hoof in the fog and the mist.

Man and horse rode through the night ebony,

Till the light of dawn their armor had kissed.

Brandishing steel and banners and flags,

They did battle for that which was yet to be found,

And as dusk fell stealing the light,

there were dead in the trees and dead on the ground.

The victors stood tall though blatantly ill,

With blood on their blades they sheathed their swords,

In twilight they looked in horror and saw,

that high was the price of the desire they'd forged.

 

Search without ceasing!" a victor cried

"It's for the box that our comrades have died!"

"But dear Sir" said another "We require some light.

Without we're blind fools searching the night."

"Then we'll build a fire to rival the sun,

For we cannot cease searching till the quest is won!"

With delight in his eyes a lad lit the blaze,

With a crackling sound there was light in the haze.

 

The box in the legend had so much to give,

To those who beheld it long would they live.

So onward they searched with their backs to the flames,

That cast long dead shadows of men without names.

 

Behind them the flames grew more and more bright,

And everyone there was glad for the light.

But with more fire there comes more smoke,

And soon the whole island started to choke.

With tears in their eyes the box was forgot,

They searched for an answer but they had naught.

Hot grew the flames as they swept the land,

wiping it clean of every hand.

An entire people consumed by a spark,

kindled by some mad fool in the dark.

A lesson to be learned but few would say,

It would apply to us today.

 

A few days later a bird took perch,

On the box for which they did search,

The box lay empty it's contents bare,

Nothing but a inscription there.

 

"Kill not thy brother for what he possess,

In your lust to have more, you will have less.

Raise not your sword to any man,

Live here in peace and share what you can."

 

The island laid black and so it stayed for years,

And each passer by had their own private fears.

Then sometime later on a warm summer day,

Came knights dressed in silver to build castles of grey.

 

David D. Vande Velde 2-5-87

©1992 WordSmith Productions