Echos of Time

To stand,

Inside opulent cathedrals

Built in ages long gone by

Made of stone and mortar, 

And exotic marbles, from regions so far away from where they stand

Like a continental giant bringing their hands together to build a mountain

And just as much with the ego of their commisioner whose name they carry along with them

A mirror of their person and the times in which they lived

But what of the backs on which these grandiose symbols of power were really built on?

The ones who have been given the grave dishonour of being relegated to collective nouns

Who's names, barely mentioned, long forgotten and lost to time far sooner perhaps, than those they toiled under.

They have made these places sacred, by what it has taken to build them. 

It is them then that these utterly beautiful symphonies of art, sciences and human ingenuity truly honour as they rage against the current of time so that we, eons later can be humbled in their presence

So let these very monuments laugh, laugh with everyone who found magnificent ways to eternally mock the pompous patrons in the work which they stick their name in, and be known for the souls of those who brought them to life. 

Who The Fuck Cares if it is Forever or Not?!

Forevers. A word we use every day in so many different contexts with a whole lot of people. But, does it really mean what it is supposed to mean? The answer, frankly, is no.

Nothing lasts forever, not love, not friendship and not even non-biodegradable plastic. It is of my opinion that we, as human beings, cannot care for someone or something for a very long time. As we all know, the basic instincts of any lifeform on earth is: Eat, Survive and Reproduce. Despite that, we have done a remarkable job holding on to people with Love. But is love alone, by itself, enough to hold on to someone forever? I don’t think so. Love, like everything else, needs work.

Sure, for the first few years it seems that love is enough to bridge the gap, but as time passes, it starts to fade away. This is where “true love” is put to the test. If you really love someone, you would work all the more harder to keep the spark alive and if that doesn’t work, you’ll try even harder (this is actually a quote from an otherwise ridiculous Telugu movie :P ). You may not love someone forever but the beauty of it is that one day, when you think it is all gone, and you wake up next to that person, you are reminded of the reason you really travelled down the road with them and more often than not, the spark is back.

Again, this may or may not be true but who gives a fuck. We’ll still be using the damn word anyway.

Peace Out to all my ‘followers’ :P

Mist Upon The Placid Morn

For the love of Nature and all it's beauty: Bleed out your beauty, Autumn –  Give up a gentle wrist, and smear  Your bloody hues atop the green. Cast a calming throw of heady peace Upon the cooling land.  And as you grant the sun a final fling of warmth,  Charge the silent air  (Now lolling on a foliar deathbed)  With earthen whiff to intimate the fungal push. Soon you’ll send a shiver down the watery spine of  Quivering ponds, punctual brooks, and Listless lakes, to warn them of the freeze to come. Behold! your mellow spirit Hanging as a mist upon the placid morn – A sight that draws a sneaking tear or two – forlorn Observers are we all of colder climes to view!  Autumn Lady, must you be the summer waning –?  Our adieu to fairer-weather life?  Ah well, at least you hum a warming tone, ensuring Nature’s rhythm still abounds.  But now you must prepare the mind for chilly times – You know the drill – Guiding us along a sloping path To ease our psyche in to sleet and snow – The blue-ice bite of winter.

Nothing

So many lives faded, withered away. And many were born.
 Much that was great and significant sank into irrelevance.
 Today became history, history became legend,
 And fell into oblivion.
 Yet nothing vanishes without a trace.
 Everything that is sprang from what was.

Sweeping Tides

we were once so close
 and now so far
 once together
 now miles apart
 i should have known the friendship would grow cold
 even when you kept on telling me it wouldn't
 i hardly know you anymore
 and neither do you me


 what was once such a beautiful friendship
 is nothing anymore
 just a fragmented memory
 why did we have to drift apart?
 so slowly but so surely
 one day we were one and the next we were two


 it always happens, i should have known that
 we never had much keeping the flame burning
 it has now been extinguished
 without neither of us knowing
 but i do now, now its too late


 i no longer know you as much as i used to
 we hardly talk anymore
 but if i ask you why did we grow apart
 you always say we haven't
 yet we have cant you see?
 its not the same as it once was
 was it you or was it me?

Phantom of the Opera

Iron Maiden at their very fucking best _/\_

I've been looking so long for you now you won't get away from my grasp.

You've been living so long in hiding in hiding behind that false mask.And you know and I know that you ain't got long now to last.Your looks and your feelings are just the remains of your past.
You're standing in the wings, there you wait for the curtain to fall.Knowing the terror and holding you have on us all.Yeah, I know that you're gonna scratch me, maim me and maul.You know I'm helpless from your mesmerising cat call.
Keep your distance, walk away, don't take his bait.Don't you stray, don't fade away.Watch your step, he's out to get you, come what may.Don't you stray, from the narrow way.
I'm running and hiding in my dreams you're always there.You're the Phantom of the Opera, you're the devil, you're just out to scare.You damaged my mind and my soul it just floats through the air.Haunt me, you taunt me, you torture me back at your lair.

Musings of a Confused Mind

Dusk dawn on me, so cold so cold,
A light sliver from the night I see, unfold,
And the coldest wind it blows on me,
As the sky seeps into black,
And the nervous sick inside of me,
Holding itself back,
And I cant see in front of me,
And I cant see behind,
And I don't know where I'm going,
Or the things that I will find.

Now let my ceiling turn to sky,
And let it darkened be,
And let the air run through my throat,
And rise me up to sea,
And everything is falling,
And I am losing time,
But the air is holding me,
And keeping me alive,
And as I rise I feel the stars,
Start to swallow me,
And in the dark I felt my heart,
Struggling to break free.
And if you try walking towards the light,
You too shall be.

Birthdays on Retrospection

Birthdays. Day of birth. Janmadiwas and what not. You only get one per year and there's always great expectations going into it. It did used to be the day when all your friends and family come over to your house, cut some cake, play games and tear open the gifts and just go bonkers with delight. And then you grow up and with that goes the joy you get from all the smaller things. You begin to understand, you become 'mature' and with that a little selfish. The number of gifts doesn't satisfy you anymore, it's what inside them that counts, family celebration tends to take the backseat and you only want to go out and party with your peeps. The expectations are much higher than before and you'll look forward to it more than ever. As the 18th approaches the feeling cannot be described. Officially an adult, legally permitted to do whatever you want, complete freedom in front of you and for special gifts for this special occasion. But then you slowly start to realize that birthdays are overrated. When you look back, you'll find them to be routine except for a few surprises and maybe some unforgettable moments but mostly just like any other day. All the parties and grand eloquent gestures don't seem to appeal to you anymore and the day turns out to be much more ordinary than you've imagined it to be. And if you happen to be in college, and if your birthday is anywhere near the exam time, you might as well just forget it's your birthday. They're gonna make you overwork and piss you off so bad that it pretty much ruins everything. So when you finally return from the ordeal you might find something as you go through all your birthday wishes, something that can turn your day around. It could be a small text from a long lost friend or a mail from a dear one but you will find it just when you've given up on trying to make it any better. And that's when you realize that sure, grand gestures are pretty great and make for a great snap but in the end it is the small things that count. The small things that make your day. The small things that bring back the joy of the past, the same joy of those parties with friends and family, of those silly little games and of ripping open those gifts. Because it is these small things that make you feel loved, and that's what makes birthdays so special.

Sweet Nostalgia

After years of tiresome days,
 I visited the place where I was made.
 It didn't changed with passing days
 But was beautiful and laid back as always
 While walking through the lonely grasses,
 I felt the presence of my young life.
 Old friends did bring up the old memories
 Everything had changed and yet it was all the same.
There was something about that place,
That despite having none of the hangout places we're used to,
Still made me come back for more.
And though time has passed and I moved on to different cities, better than this,
None of them captivated my heart,
Like that the heart of the country did.

The "Glorious" Purpose

The dead and dying laying in piles
carnage of the pointless war
buildings hazed to the ground
Nothing but devastation meets the eye
Young men and women back from the front
suffering from the horrors seen and committed
knowing they have blood on their hands
and for what? So that someone  can lay their claim on a piece of land? Certainly no gain earned.
What should always be remembered is that in war,
There is no enemy, there is no victory
Only young children who lost their lives in the sand.
Blindly following orders made from afar
people who have never seen the awful carnage
who sleep safe in warm beds with pleasant dreams
Because the rich wage wars and it is the poor who die
no God, no religion justifies slaughtering innocents to claim bragging rights.
You don't find sheep killing each other on someone else's command. 
Maybe if they had to spend a couple of weeks
fearing daily for their sorry worthless lives
amidst the wreckage that they have caused
If they see the families they've torn apart, the women they've widowed, the children they've orphaned.
If they can see that the price of war is not the billions of dollars of loses but the millions of innocent people being sacrificed in the name of peace
Maybe then they will see how pointless it was in the first place..

Music- The Soul of Life

Songs shape your lives. They have shaped my life since the past five to six years. Rhythm Metal, Heavy Metal, Rock, basically all forms of metal, Classical, Opera, Symphonies, Epics and Poems. You name it. I've heard it all. And loved them all.
Be it Mötorhead or Iron Maiden, Ramones or Green Day, Linkin Park or , Slipknot or Queen, Opeth or DT, Kula Shaker or Reverrse Polarity, Eagles or Neil Diamond, Metallica or Megadeth, Black Sabbath or Led Zeppelin. My life is full of music. Our lives are full of music. Full of the strums of the guitar, screams of the Electric and the "drnts" of the Bass. The beats of the drums and the plunks of the Piano, the shouts of singers and the raps of bozos, their narratives and their songs.
We may love one band or the other, one song or the other, the older albums or the newer ones, one genre over the other but it means a different thing to the various individual.
The melodies of these beats and notes and the occasional cacophonies of the thrash metal pieces will always be with us...
Reverberating in in our ears without a single betrayal of Profanity till the very end of the ends .......... In the End.
Music has A Place For my Head, in all our heads...it will never be Forgotten. Music, now i speak directly to you - "Hallowed Be Thy Name." Revelations that music gives us will one day take us to The Final Frontier maybe even just before 2 Minutes to Midnight, without a single Fear Of the Dark. Music will tell us when All Hope Is Gone, and Wherein Lies Continue...
If we may be Soldiers, Music will be in our ears when we Scream Aim Fire, when with a Hand Of Blood we pull out the backstabbing knives in our backs. Even if there is an event of Reverrse Polarity on the earth, Music will still be with us even as we just Ramble On
When thinking about The Catalyst in the chemistry practicals or think about the light of A Thousand Suns in theoretical Astrophysics, Music will always be with us.
When we sing the glory of Manchester United, Music is with us.
We may be Dead By Sunrise, but we will still Crawl Back In towards the Fire thinking about Horseshoes and Hand-grenades with 21 Guns facing us on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams doing the Dance Of Death counting the Number Of The Beast with the Flash of The Blade Where Eagles Dare, whether we would be Living after Midnight or just need 5 Minutes Alone, music is always there.
Even when we search for the Stairway to Heaven or find ourselves on the Highway to Hell, whether we are Paranoid or go Space Truckin', music always finds us.
Despite being a Man on The Edge, I, Out Of The Silent Planet will recognize the values of A Matter Of Life And Death and will strive to be Brighter Than a Thousand Suns.
When Hearts Burst Into Fire, we won't have 21st Century Breakdowns in case of thinking if East Jesus Nowhere is a truth.
Music will be there even if we have a Wavin' Flag right in front of our eyes, and we think about stalwarts and remember that a great man sung "Mile Sur Mera Tumhara" and a golden voice made us remember our martyrs with "O Mere Watan Ke Logon..."..............

Headache

My skull is strangling my mind again,
 the pressure aches and groans.
 Whoever thought that
 these petty little thoughts
 could be physically painful?
 I hold in my thoughts
 because you have problems too,
 and I don't want to
 make this all about me, you know?
 I see you, your worried smile,
 and I tell you "hey, it'll be fine."
 Of course it will,
 you can handle it, you're a tough
 person.
 But I can't help, I can't do anything for you,
 you're like a fish, drowning in vinegar behind
 a wall of glass.
 What then? What do I do when you're
 safe again, in a bowl of unfiltered water?
 So many times, you said the same
 to me.
 "Hey, it'll be fine." and you patted
 me on the head, and I put aside everything,
Just to make my face appear more bright.
Your family cares about you, I look up to you, these thoughts hurt.
 But how I can express it, when anything I do to show it,
only reveals the uselessness of ever asking me in the first place?
 Not like this, not where your heart and future is on the line.
 And I have to watch, passively,
 as you swim through hostile waters.

My Sister :*

Anusha, What Can I Say,
You Are The Best Sister
I Could've Ever Asked For
We Went Through A Lot When We Were Younger,
But You Helped Me Through It!
You Made Me Stronger.
I Am Thankful For That Every Day
So Thank-you For Always Being There For Me.
So On This Special Day 
I Wanted To Tell You How Much I Love You,
I Really Do!!!
I Know I Don't Say It Often But It's True.
I Love You!
 I Know We Fight a lot
But We Are siblings after all.
(We Always Forgive Each Other)!
It's Not The Fact That We Are "Blood"
But The Love I Have For You Tells Me That We Will Be FRIENDS Forever!
Happy Rakhshabandhan  

An Endless Sea with a Broken Beginning

As a number left the midst of numbers many more than none

Midnight was a matter of question, relatively relating no tale but one

Of sorrow, not of love nor hate but of something worse still

Sadness leeches out of this tale if it can your heart fill

Beginning an end but not ending the beginning that was once so long ago

Yet the sad story has a voice of its own and is but anything other than mellow

This story is so stranger, well, It has a beginning but has no end

The end can't be seen but the beginning is broken beyond mend

Not physically nor otherwise, nor a crack nor knot,

No skirmish exists here yet a rift plays its rot

Hands are tied beyond compare and legs nailed to the floor

And yet you see no end nor beginning save but an invisible door

Of what use is this door that cannot you see nor feel

And worse still it is that no one can see a seal

binding on the feet and hands without amends or pain

But harder still it is to see that all the traps have been lain

To see no choice ahead is bad enough but to see no problem is the worst there is

And to find no farewell or ending note is something that's sorely amiss

No seal can bind again this rift today; nor a boon will tomorrow

And this one thing is that which chills many-a-hardened marrow

No eyes can express guilt for deeds, nor any unnecessary denial

And yet you know that no potion will mend, no matter how large the phial

Sands won't record this fate, but stones will narrate the tale

Yet no carver nor novice engraved, and the sands now face the gale

No king nor slight ever has a story such, and yet each man has a great story to tell

This is but a humble one, but what makes you think this is mine to reveal ?

Cry you may if the tears you find, but sob do not for its not over yet

See the water harden the sand and the magma embellish it and set

And that which was unintended now has indeed become a halo

But no pipe or lute nor any flute nor a viola nor cello

Will ever help compose a lay as this for it is a man's life

And what a life it is indeed, to lie unaided in the rock

Even no bard nor poet dared ever to openly it mock

No corpse you see nor spirit felt, no hero and no villain here,

But what a tale it is indeed, fear not, for it isn't so near

A meddler he wasn't nor a peddler, nor a Count nor King

And you wonder aloud, what makes me all this sing ?

And yet I won't tell you the secret for there is none at all

Make what you will of this story, still, it never does stall

Meanings many it seems to have, but a reason only one

A reason none knows about, however done or undone

Think what you will of this, none of which mind I'll a lot,

For knots there be and still many more, but they matter not

Nor of friends nor foes is this, nor of anything soft

Yet this narrative is held high aloft

By truth, faith and fervor oft sought

Hereby I end this lay, this sorry tale of no man that lived

Lived he did but not the way you think he did

But further I shan't say anymore

As listeners and readers alike find the meaning evermore....

The Facts In Fiction

"Live in the moment."  This age old wisdom has cautioned so many generations, made them aware of the dangers of getting lost in fantasies and worlds that trap us inside them, when in reality, it’s those worlds that are trapped between our neurons. That's hard to wrap your head around.

Then again, many of us know there are characters who have taught us more than real people have. I for one look up to Gandalf, Dumbledore, Oromis and so many other wise characters, with greater respect than I look up to the grand old men that left their mark on history. I admire Frodo, Harry and Eddard more than I admire Alexander The Great.

Their deeds, though not real, have guided me through life far too often.

I have read the lives of so many visionaries, martyrs and influential figures. The stuff they did is wonderful, exemplary and every bit worth the fame and respect they are given. But let’s face it, rarely are their experiences relatable. No, I know we're never gonna have to face renegade Jedi's and tyrannic rulers that live off dragons' hearts. We don't have to worry about curses and prophecies, Dark Lords and executions. More or less, we lead ordinary lives.

But we know these characters, perhaps better than we know ourselves. There's a level of closeness we don't share even in our admiration for real heroes. Most of us grew up with these characters, progressing through their stories in their worlds even as we marched through our own lives. Through the chapters we acquainted ourselves with their darkest secrets, their joys, their fears. We might read a lot about mighty deeds by brave commanders in the wars gone by, we might read about difficult decisions that men of steel took as they walked ahead in their lives. But we never got to know them. We only know about them, but don't entirely understand them.

Would you take advice more seriously from some stranger or someone you know well, like your mom? (Okay, apart from when you've not really screwed up.)

I know the struggles of my heroes. I know them so well, I often identify with them. And I learn from them. I try not to repeat any mistakes they made because I felt the pain they felt in the aftermath. I try to take in the good about them. Hey, I'm not saying you can't learn from the great of the past. But think about it, the Mahatma ate meat and lied/hid the truth about it and repented deeply. I read it, resolved to always be truthful and soon forgot. I admit it, this is my experience. On the other hand, I learnt many lessons about lies, friendship, trust and also the difference between right and wrong from what I've read, from what I've seen in those many worlds where I roam when I feel lost.

I've roamed The Shire, trekked up Amon Amarth, marched through Du Weldenvarden, experienced life on Berk. Hell, I even witnessed the greatest wizards' duel of all time. Small secret, I've also been to the Hundred-Acre-Wood.  All with the characters who I accompanied, who help me from their locked realms of fantasy and dreams, when I'm lost in my reality.

 

Phoenix Rendezvous

Fire rites: inner revolution on a binge

Parts of me have travelled through uncounted time and space

I feel.

I want to say what I mean.

And mean what I am feeling.

I’m trying.

No need to run outside for better seeing.

Or walk to nearby windows.

Staying here—the right place for being.

So Sartre said.

The more I leave it

The less I’m free

Search your heart and see,

We are not unwise to be reborn gradually.

The way to do is to be

(I’ve always felt that).

The way to be is to do

(That thought has plagued me too).

I’m sighing.

I’ve ordered and organized reality,

Too often simplifying

I thought the price right, buying

Letting it happen to life I once called sacred.

I’ve been lying.

It’s been harder than I thought to love prevent.

Am I fading?

Awareness haunts me, and simply utter chaos.

Today untamed, tomorrow unnamed.

Not really knowing if I am going

To a meeting between my other selves and i

Or to a soulless flying.

Phoenix Rendezvous?

Letting go is like this: fear and lying, faith and crying.

And bargaining, no denying.

Giving up puts backward parts of me behind,

Yielding a different mind,

Where brokenness is sane.

The pathfinder is pain.

Joyful revolution, the seductive gain,

Some say even cellular change.

That’s what we came here for.

Gods always ask us for more.

I am fading

Quenching colliding forces and hatching new self.

Composure never quite setting in.

Instead, my consciousness and being.

Grasping one another, flex and unbend,

With endless ends and new beginnings.

Fire rites: flames licking,

Transformation finds a home again.

A Life That Has Been..

The time in between passing out of high school and joining a college is like standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to jump. You know that there is water down below but you don’t know how far down it is or how choppy it is. It is at this very instant that the proverbial “life flashing by” occurs. The comforting thought of falling on solid ground while you were there now ceases to exist. It is replaced by the fear of the unknown. I now find myself at that same juncture. And yes, I do look back and reflect on the life that has been.

By far, it is the last 6 years that have made a huge difference to me. The first three of those 6 were spent in a place that I may never forget. I was in 7^th when I first came to Pune. At that time I didn’t know anything beyond what a 12 year old should know, but that first year there changed everything. Suddenly, I was open to all the things I never knew was possible for someone so young, and it was AWESOME. A lot of shit happened too but I’d rather like to keep it buried. 7^th passed soon and then came 8^th. Now this was when I found the best of friends. Together we thought we could win the world and nothing could change us. 8^th and 9^th were too good for words, full of pranks and football and fucking around a lot. We became such good friends that when I had to leave Pune after 9^th, I fought everyone who said it was for the best. At that time, you wouldn’t care for what was best as long as you were having fun, but in the end, parents have the final say, like they always do and thus I landed in Hyderabad at a time when no one would have considered moving. I was forced to join a special “IIT Training” tuition that gave me nightmares. And then there was school which was so frustrating that I convinced myself that I would end up a loner.

I tried to distance myself from everything. I was hostile to classmates, didn’t care for shit what they thought, bunked the iit classes and went gaming instead. I lied to more people that I would care to admit, but it felt GOOD. I was there fighting for what I felt was the right thing to do. Then the unexpected happened. I met 4 guys who turned it all around. I ended up having the best time of my life that year and even met D.  I’d like to think that I am very lucky to have bumped into K, S and D because let me tell you, you both crazy idiots have become a huge part of my life and I would never part with you.

11^th and 12^th are said to be the most important years of once life and that to us meant just one thing: “N”. it was in my mind nothing more than a factory that churned out IITians every year without fail. The timings were inhuman, atmosphere gruesome. It would come as no surprise that I HATE THAT PLACE. So bad that I wanted to run away (yet again) but I didn’t, because I had no chice, that much was certain. But as with DAV, this time too I met these few people. On reflection, it seemed natural because we were all chronic backbenchers and so had to have something common :P What followed next was another bond that I hope never breaks. Of all the people there, A, S and R were and continue to be my best friends. These two years have been a roller coaster but they made it worth it, from the inside jokes to the weekly football trips, every memory is like a diamond.

And now as I write this and soon going away, I look back and see what I thought was irreplaceable has been replaced. I never thought my time in Hyderabad would be more memorable than my time in Pune. And it is all thanks to the six people I hope I time would never steal from me. We may all go different ways in the next couple of months, but I feel sure that somehow, we will never be far away.

Hallowed be thy name

Hallowed be thy name is a song that is instantly recognized by anyone remotely familiar with Iron Maiden, and rightly so. It is an outstanding piece of art, a timeless classic. The music, which as we have come to expect of Maiden is mind blowing but the crown jewel of the song is its lyrics. Steve Harris can rightfully claim his place as one of the greatest songwriters with this being his masterpiece. The song describes the last thoughts going through the mind of a convict sentenced to death. What follows is a hauntingly beautiful account of those thoughts.

I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime

 Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time

 'Cause at 5 o'clock they take me to the Gallows Pole

 The sands of time for me are running low

 When the priest comes to read me the last rites

 I take a look through the bars at the last sights

 Of a world that has gone very wrong for me

 Can it be that there's some sort of an error

 Hard to stop the surmounting terror

 Is it really the end not some crazy dream?

 Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming

 It's not easy to stop from screaming

 But words escape me when I try to speak

 Tears they flow but why am I crying?

 After all I am not afraid of dying

 Don't I believe that there never is an end?

 As the guards march me out to the courtyard

 Someone calls from a cell "God be with you"

 If there's a God then why has he let me die?

 As I walk all my life drifts before me

 And though the end is near I'm not sorry

 Catch my soul 'cause it's willing to fly away

 Mark my words believe my soul lives on

 Don't worry now that I have gone

 I've gone beyond to seek the truth

 When you know that your time is close at hand

 Maybe then you'll begin to understand

 Life down there is just a strange illusion

Writing

Expression of thought,

Under the light of what has been taught.

Writing isn't just the use of mere ink and a dried wrinkled paper

But it's a planned plot, plot of words

Which needs to win a battle,

Battle ?

Yes, battle of influencing people.

Clearing the blocked minds through unknown passage of time,

Detaining ruthless power of majority

When being truthful is the true nature of humanity.

Many seem to ignore, let go or simply laugh.

Those are people who cease to become something.

They believe in anything and utter the words of dumbing.

They need to realize that it's hard to jot those expressions.

Because writing resembles the unspoken speech of the silenced.

Courage

Some want to think hope is lost see me stand alone

 I can't do what others may want then I'll have no home

 So for now wave good-bye and leave your hands held high

 Hear this song of courage long into the night

 So for now wave good-bye and leave your hands held high

 Hear this song of courage long into the night

 And the wind will bear my cry to all who hope to fly

 Hear this song of courage ride into the night

 Battles are fought by those with the courage to believe

 They are won by those who find the heart

 Find a heart to share

 This heart that fills the soul will point the way to victory

 If there's a fight then I'll be there, I'll be there

 So for now wave good-bye, leave your hands held high

 Hear this song of courage long into the night

 And the wind will bear my cry to all who hope to fly

 Lift your wings up high my friend fearless to the end

 So for now wave good-bye, leave your hands held high

 Hear this song of courage ride into the night