For long awaited he in silence,
turbulent hearts
convoluted minds,
every song he played failed
in silent misery he prayed.
When the doors open
after the second knock
up comes a little angel
dancing to his tune.
With a red face she cries
"for long didst thou not come
tortured with pain didst we sleep
days and nights
monitored by the gray giants
yearning for thy tune
parchments didst i fill with my woes
Oh piper why art thou late ?"
Tears shadowed his vision
humbled by the angels love,
none did he explain to her
not his wars with horrendous beasts
not the journeys into lads unknown
not the victory over monotonous grief.
With a tender hug did he embrace
a fatherly care not unknown,
carrying the angel he played the tune
the tune of joy
of love
of victory
the piper's tune, classical.
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