The Song of the Women of My Land.

Image Source.

Like a sculptor chipping away the bits of wood
Time chisels away bits of their memory
It strips away lyrics of the song of the women of my land
Living only a fading tone echoing the song

They sang in the forlorn fields 
About their lives' songs
Of how they ploughed the terrain of their landscapes
For memories of lyrics lost in the vast void of time

In those days when a song beheld their soul
And dereliction decapitated the epic of their hoes
With a song, they sponged off their anguish

To behold their collective pain
To celebrate their gains
Give lyrics to the tune of their lives
Cheat the tyranny of time
And commune with the yet unborn
To give meaning to an epoch lost in antiquity
Dot time strips the lyrics and scares the tune, leaving a dying song

Bad!

The dirge of their lives!

Cheers.

Gingered Up! ❣️