Of Gains and Loss

Crumbling wall, that stands alone,

Astride the wood 'twixt tree and tree,

That once in ages now long past

Held back the dark from such as me;

That crept through woods alike to these -

(And on that thought, I see the trees

About me in new light, suspiciously.)

A bulwark, purposeful and proud,

As darkness rose within the world,

In which such plans to save the meek

Debated, crafted, and unfurled,

And triumphed as this world still stands,

And free folk walk upon these lands,

And not to magic's whim twisted and twirled.

How grand you were, long ago,

How grand we all, in magic gilt,

Until we did our blindfolds throw,

And saw a world of shifting silt.

And turned our back on faerie gold,

And found a world of iron, cold,

Not perfect but a world by our hands built.

Oh! Crumbling hall, the heroes' keep,

In woods from which the magic's gone,

At night it means a peaceful sleep,

But never has the sunlight shone

As well as it once did for we

Who were of glamour never free,

Until we chose to stand apart, alone.

Lesser than then, and greater too,

An unchained soul can move at will,

Can find real love, real things to do,

Feel summer's warmth and winter's chill.

But at the loss of summer snow,

And winter's kisses, long ago,

A world that's real and true, but slow and still.