There's a voice that's calling.
Always calling me.
Somewhere in the dark that once haunted my dreams.
I know that its light will ignite my soul.
And the heat of the flames will forge halves to a whole.

A rusted weapon.. in need of its sheath.
Once polished and sharpened with the stone of belief.
Now stuck on the mantle in a room of lost memories.
Most are embellished with some air of hyperbole.

At its core there is truth. A world full of magic.
In the end, the tale becomes less happy, more tragic.
Sorting through the wreckage of what seems preordained,
Yet, only in dreams can its memory remain.

Still lost in the arms of what could've been.
And wishing to atone for a sizeable sin.
Purifying the memory. Throw away the taint.
Repairing the damage so recklessly sustained.

Searching the darkness is an unyielding task.
But if that's the solution, there's no need now to ask.
Ready to take on the perilous fight.
If it means, that once more, it'll return the light..

© The Moonlight Bard