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Epic Poetry?
Why must wisdom be wasted On the old and already wise? Why must the young wait to learn Why the sun doth continue to rise? Shall I meet you this morn And learn all your tales? When I have scholared for so long And the scriptures have finally failed At mentioning that life must be lived And that good will always prevail... Must the battle always be fought? And courage be sought In the most unusual of men to be found? In a battle where only the widows sing about epic tales; While the heroes and villains mingle their blood and raise up their flails For these epics to unfold And have their histories constantly retold Loyality and valor to once more be reassured And when that time comes to raise arms For honor and glory and the peasants with his farms, Will the young knight who follows his king Be forever faithful or sorry to see That wasted was his life on Causes that are not quite understood. So are those epics poems Really fact or fiction? And when the time comes I wonder who leads the dictation The king who had won the day Or the scholar who does follow, Perhaps the villain righting his wrong And trying to end his sorrow... So when the day comes And history is what must be found Whose account is right? Whose readings are sound? I challenge you to find the truth Seek the roots no matter how deep And when the cliff approaches Go ahead and jump No matter how the gorge is deep