Of course, of course! How delightful that someone in this forsaken place is willing to listen. What does everybody think I write these ballads for? My own benefit?
[ Also... yes? Maybe? At any rate, Eagle plucks a few strings to find his key, and then starts into a wistful-sounding intro as a backing track to his dramatic introduction: ]
Our tale, my sweet Sophia, takes place many centuries ago. Long before you, or I, or the incense. Long before Copalli was nothing but four cities amid a continent of ruin, it was a populous and prosperous land of beauty and riches. The ancient pantheon ruled the skies, the sea, the earth, even the hearts of men. All was harmonious, but there was no order, no peace. The gods of the old world were foolish, and petty, and craved endlessly the blood of the fallen. But all that changed when the land itself rebelled against its cruel masters and, in defense of itself... lashed out.
[ And now more aggressive strumming as he delivers the rest in song: ]
O thundering fury, cacophonous land, Exalted, contemptuous, corruptor of man; Stripped clean of his flesh, but nevertheless, painless... The earth lay desolated, his bare heart over-rated, torn apart by his own hand.
O fiery fury, wherefore a snake? (Wherefore, indeed, must it always be snakes?) Careless and reckless and blinded by hate... Uncontrolled in her measures, and every last treasure thus incinerated.
O perilous fury, sundering tides, Its visage, good heavens!, a trick of the mind; Would I were so bold, with that many hands to hold, but feckless... It drowns out our sorrows, yet there'll be no to-morrow, for one so utterly blind.
O glorious fury, whispering winds, Her heads put together, the seams of time, she mends; And how foolish are we, defy vainglorious She! a trick Goddess... Swept away on the breeze, she holds all the keys, thus locked inside we all meet our end.
no subject
[ Also... yes? Maybe? At any rate, Eagle plucks a few strings to find his key, and then starts into a wistful-sounding intro as a backing track to his dramatic introduction: ]
Our tale, my sweet Sophia, takes place many centuries ago. Long before you, or I, or the incense. Long before Copalli was nothing but four cities amid a continent of ruin, it was a populous and prosperous land of beauty and riches. The ancient pantheon ruled the skies, the sea, the earth, even the hearts of men. All was harmonious, but there was no order, no peace. The gods of the old world were foolish, and petty, and craved endlessly the blood of the fallen. But all that changed when the land itself rebelled against its cruel masters and, in defense of itself... lashed out.
[ And now more aggressive strumming as he delivers the rest in song: ]
O thundering fury, cacophonous land,
Exalted, contemptuous, corruptor of man;
Stripped clean of his flesh, but nevertheless, painless...
The earth lay desolated, his bare heart over-rated, torn apart by his own hand.
O fiery fury, wherefore a snake?
(Wherefore, indeed, must it always be snakes?)
Careless and reckless and blinded by hate...
Uncontrolled in her measures, and every last treasure thus incinerated.
O perilous fury, sundering tides,
Its visage, good heavens!, a trick of the mind;
Would I were so bold, with that many hands to hold, but feckless...
It drowns out our sorrows, yet there'll be no to-morrow, for one so utterly blind.
O glorious fury, whispering winds,
Her heads put together, the seams of time, she mends;
And how foolish are we, defy vainglorious She! a trick Goddess...
Swept away on the breeze, she holds all the keys, thus locked inside we all meet our end.
[ Aaand... fade out. ]
Well? What did you think?