The Saga

Gather all, the hour has come The story of an ordinary woman She travelled galaxies and wrote songs Of planets that hung beyond Saturn She met eagles with wings of baby elephants By tree roots she journeyed to other continents Soon her tales reached a merchant's table who gathered wolves to devour her labour They knocked on her door and maimed a cry The softest pleas she couldn't deny She served some rice and offered a plate The china broke, she fell to treacherous fate The lady who helped was now a captive Chained in irons, oxidized, inactive The merchant arrived to claim his prize mocked her for having too much of pride The hyenas dragged her out of the house Broke her wheels and butchered her blouse They burnt her books and made her watch What a sorrowful blend of men, my lord She saw her manuscripts turn to ashes Her heart sank! It was no more worth it But her roots to travel were all broken She invoked a medium and earth split open What remained behind were ballads in blood Upon which they painted some mediocre verse Traders staged together the crass and the classic sold stories hoping historians wouldn't notice The lady's reputation was tarnished and torn A sorcerer she was, masked in a woman's form Good she left or she would've been burned alive with her squirrels and quills and horns and thighs Drumbeats and trumpets declared the future A gala announced The Musical Creature A shiny puppet who danced as he sung His adventures from another world on Saturn Villagers gathered from near and far The posters claimed, he was the next star Men of position took their seats When curtains lifted, nobody could speak The puppet sang a word and then stood still All wondered if he was choked or thrilled Few notes were heard before long branches were seen Spreading across floor and pillars, claiming the scene Twigs and leaves were no more gentle Like wildfire they gripped the stage in centre Green and brown bore wings of black Some called it curse, some called it wrath When all the music died in storm, The Musical Creature could not be found A voice was heard from the tallest branch The merchant was hanging from the tree's arms All eyes fixed on a bewildering sight The merchant pleaded but he lost his voice When his lips moved, they heard a familiar tongue Singing the story of the ordinary woman All the lies became the background noise As the tallest branch rained the truth from skies The Oak tree sang of his dearest traveller Who was one part wild and one part, wonder Everyone mourned the greatest loss Oh! What could have been! What it was Now she dwells in a far-off galaxy And we wonder why stars live so far