The carnal record bears the hoar times
Of cackling fires and widened faces,
Of stringed symphony and rendered rhymes,
When the Truth reigned in all seasons
Now, our heads are thrown aback in despair
And we stagger to answer the knocks of sorrow.
We quake beneath fiction’s feet, we weep afeard
For again, we recall the heightened barns of tomorrow.
Of our song, on my lips, the lyrics have vanished
And the Union’s melody is now that of rivers.
Our altos and sopranos are altogether vanquished
For at blank faces the vocal chord quivers.
Yet, a new dawn is not born without the Sun.
And if the mind survives, the battle is won.
Hence, think thou not on all that be wrong.
Let loose your lips and sing a new song.
“I will sing a new song unto thee, O God: upon a psaltery and an instrument of ten strings will I sing praises unto thee.” -Psalm 144:9, KJV
Written by Esther Ogieriakhi
Featured Image by Casey Horner