A carved oak table,
Tells a tale
Of times when kings and queens sipped wine from goblets gold,
And the brave would lead their ladies from out of the room
to arbours cool.
A time of valour, and legends born
A time when honour meant much more to a man than life
And the days knew only strife to tell right from wrong
Through lance and sword.
Why, why can we never be sure till we die
Or have killed for an answer,
Why, why do we suffer each race to believe
would
valour
times
light
scars
ladies
never
kings
feeble
through
honour
goblets
floor
answer
believe
suffer
carved
because
killed
carving
brave
change
legends
grander
seems
silver
according
names
dusty
discarded
musty
panes
retains
queens
right
wrong
sipped
smells
meant
descends
sword
space
table
strife
tarnished
lance
though
tells
those
their
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