In obsidian nights
when the rain lashes cold,
the wanderer weeps through the land.
All hear his plight,
as the twilight grows old;
in tempest, how can he withstand?
First come the stars,
like eyes in the sky,
looking down on the traveler’s trail.
Sanguine and simple,
they smile in surprise,
and gentle they breathe on the gale.
Then wakens the moon,
veiled in velvet and light
and his face chases shadows away.
Mystic, his guidance
leads the stray through the blight,
’round rivals and out of the gray.
In silence, the sun
overlooks her domain,
and sees the roamer wet and cold.
Sagely, she spreads
her arms ‘cross the plains,
to embrace and warm him in gold.
In amber morrow,
when the weather has waned,
the wanderer sings to the skies.
None hear his sorrow,
for the Three banished pain,
and in joy, he strikes his reprise.
This is a song written for my work-in-progress. I really enjoy song-writing (especially when it’s for fantasy fiction), and find that it’s helpful in world-building and culture-creating. I also like to actually write the music for my songs; most of the time I use medieval styles, intervals, and instruments to establish its melody and harmony.
It’s probably difficult to understand the overall message of this song when taken out of context (though you can probably interpret it in multiple ways). Basically, the realm that my w.i.p. takes place in worships three fictional gods who take the form of the sun, moon, and stars. This would be a hymn sung in the Temple or by traveling minstrels.