Meaning Is What Bards Make
What does it mean to be a bard of rhyme,
when locusts swarm to eat my life away,
destroyed before I reach my chosen time,
to enjoy every single focused day?
What does it mean to be a bard of song,
when life's sweet notes are played and out of tune,
when the world shouts at me, “You don't belong!”
and casts me out, beneath a frigid moon?
Ay! what it means to be a bard is choice:
when nothing else for me in life is meant,
then hope and faith must find their lifting voice,
wherewith against my fate I circumvent.
More than songs that rhyme, meaning's what bards make:
so, I make all the love that this world can take!
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