path-of-the-ocean-art (January-2024)

The ballad of Bardur

Deep in the woods a traveler wanders He time and time wonders: "When shall I reach my goal and desire? When shall I feel the warmth of a fire?" Paths long forgotten, he used to know Now turned to snow. The roads turned to dust, The swords left to rust, The world isn't just. Generals — commanding, Kings — demanding, Kingdom — expanding, Empire — longstanding. ...Or at least, so they thought. The Traveler is tired. he's walked for weeks Through the seas he sailed and fought But still he seeks Ought he not? And finally, he stumbles upon a monument, fallen Most of it, endlessly looted and stolen. The wood has markings of flames Only a fragment remains: "I am Bulak, King of Kings, Chief of Chieftains! Ruler of the earth and the seas! You who is reading, bow before me!" The Traveler rests. It has been a long journey With trials and tests But he passed the tourney The Traveler laments: "For years the Gods have deemed us blessed! Forests, lumber, lest I jest I only wish the kingdom best" The Traveler rests. "But now, I am so pensive. The roads became longer, The lumber more expensive All have gotten stronger... Except Bardur." Truly, the Gods work in mysterious ways. It's freezing cold. on the snow, he lays. The cold wind carries his thoughts awry. The Traveler prays to his idol. The Traveler forever stays idle...