Voice of History

Grand, far too grand
For a person such as me
Uncultured and ill formed
And a sense of inferiority

This music flows through silence
Like a melodic golden river
Echoing from buttressed halls
And making my spine quiver

It sings of strength, direct and poised
Sings of elegant grand homes
But behind it all, I detect a whiff
Of a slight regretful tone

Perhaps its mournful voice
Recalls that times are moving fast
From a time when people truly lived
In moments, not glories past

When the bar had yet to fall
Before what was written for one is now for all
I hear perhaps a mournful recall
Of when somethings were still on a pedestal

For times change, and we must change with them
Tis the curse of living
But I can’t help feeling we leave behind
Some special part, now missing

I hear these notes and feel that maybe
We don’t have to abandon all
Its the shoulders of so many others
That allow us all now to stand tall

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