Forests of green,
Rolling far. . .
As far as the eye can see.
Dense,
Shadowed,
Inviting you to
Come and see
What they hide. . .
Secret and safe.
In winter months,
The forests would change--
No longer seas of green. . .
But fantastic realms
Of crystals and gems. . .
Diamond dust. . .
Seeming from a book
Of faerie stories. . .
Or the eyes
Of the artists. . .
In autumn,
The forests became
Seas of flame;
And in spring,
Seas of flowers.
Gone now.
A thousand years gone.
The forests of our home--
Of our youth--
Lost eternally.
A cliff
Above glistening black waters;
Above the seas--
The edge of our world.
Atop the cliff,
A castle
And its protectors.
Only the cliff remains now.
The guardians dead
A thousand years.
The castle taken
From where it stood for centuries. . .
From the cliff,
Now empty.
Once a world,
But no more. . .
No more. . .
The castle now is here.
Those of us who remain
Have left the home of our youths. . .
Our pasts. . .
Have left our world
For this new one. . .
We had no choice.
The past is lost. . .
As is our home, our world.
We have each other. . .
And a brave new world.
We still have the castle. . .
We still have a clan. . .
A small clan. . .
We have made gains
And suffered losses
In this, our new home.
Sometimes it seems like our old home. . .
But it will never be the same.
Our home is gone
Eternally. . .
But not forgotten. . .
Never forgotten. . .
We sometimes still yearn
For the home of the past. . . .