The Bard sang the myth while the refugees traveled their Exodus
“The Administration took power over the Garden, the Rebels lost the War:
How you are fallen from heaven, O Lightbringer, son of the morning!
Hear! Azrael will rebuild our Republic of Heaven“
Hearing the song, the traveled wondered what would lay ahead.
Random thoughts:
When they came for yours, you had the plan, the escape route already mapped…
You may never reach a promised land, like the one you tell stories about, but you’ll find a home, if you can make it one…
When things started to get bad, you knew whose side you needed to be on…
You couldn’t stay where you were, could never spread your wings there
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