The Skewing of Time: A Land's Requiem

{{#ifeq: | | {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |

   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | || 
     Author: Whiteflame  
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   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame)  
   }}
 }} |
 {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |
   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | | Authors: ' | 
     Authors: Whiteflame 
   }} | 
   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Authors: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) 
   }}
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<poem> The birds of the trees, Sang so, joyously, of sweet Spring’s breath and song. But now stands places, And solemn faces, Where hath the times all gone?

The Lady of the stream, Did strum and string, A lute of twig and frond. But now it is blighted, Eternally spited. Where hath the times all gone?

The steeds of the planes, Danced in great flames, On grass thus bladed long. But death did they take, Not tears to forsake, Where hath the times all gone?

The gusts on the seas. Blushed so, merrily, Whisp’ring ever, ‘nd anon. But tainted they lay, So wretched and fey, Where hath the times all gone?

The men of the woods, Wistfully stood As seasons treaded along. Since then they have died, And washed out to tide, Pray tell me; Where hath the times all gone? </poem>

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