The Song

What is a song?

A song is the birds in the trees, the wind through the fields. A song is a battle cry, a sign of mourning for the deceased. It is a way to show honour, respect, and loyalty.

A song is a silver tear shed by the moon as she dances across the sky; it is the Phoenix at dawn. Songs are whispered words to the one you love, it is the sigh of the sea echoed by the morning fog.

A song is the last march of the ones that know they won’t return home after the battle, it is the unshed tear for the lost. A song is the silent peal of bells singing for the freedom that was stolen from her nation’s people. It is the sliver of hope that remains even when darkness covers the earth.

A song is the cry from the stars, mourning for a great nation now etched away from the minds of the world by the sands of time. It is the solemn chant of the messengers of death as another is taken from their mortal ways.

A song is the birth new nation; it is the price of freedom. A song is the first breath of a young life; it is the last breath of the old. A song is what makes a creature whole; a song is what unites a country.

A song is like a ripple from a single tear, yet as a mighty wave thrown from the mouth of the sea. A song is a thread woven into the tapestry of time, without it, the tapestry would be incomplete.

A song is the voice of the elders, telling the young the tales of old; it is the ballad of our past, our history. For that is what a song is, it is a tale, a story. It captures every detail, leaving nothing out from the stumbling heartbeats of a fallen warrior to the mere whispers of the wind.

That, beloved, is a song. Never forget that.