by
Hoegard HarfootMay 18, 2011
No somber verge over them should rise
And no gravestone to mark their demise
But let their notes play out on the page
And there perchance some song to be swaged
Let meter be bright to light the day
To offer some hope and deeds essay
Like all those heroes in tales of old
Let their stories go on to be told
Passed down and scribed through all the ages
To appear upon worried pages
In aged tomes where all old rhymes go
No more fitting end can minstrels know