The Western Tradition
Muse, tell me when the first man thought
a poem is not a song.
And let me know when time had wrought
that timing was all wrong.
Behold the day when God had fled,
or so the thinkers said
they could not know if He was dead,
so history’s mislead.
And without past, the present is
but fleeting to the next.
without the War the Odyssey
is but a journey lost.
But all’s not lost, their words remain,
the Masters from of old.
So hearken to the muse they claimed,
Reclaim the song they told.
It may yet prove the mighty deeds
of poets and their words
are timeless still despite a time
that lost the ancient bards.
Do not discard the lessons they
have stored in all their lines,
and you’ll, too, hear the might that’s sung
if you’ll reclaim the rhymes.