THE ANSWER



The old man's glass brings the stars as near

As the lines upon my hand.

Or if I turn this handle here

I can gaze out over the land.

Sleep eludes me, though my body aches.

Maybe I just don't have what it takes.

I must find an answer, for all our sakes

Or die with the coward's brand.



We cannot succeed by the sword alone

Even if my oath would allow.

I will spend no lives that are not my own--

We have lost too many now.

They have multitudes against our few,

Armour, weapons and experience too--

Yet there must be something that we still can do:

We have to succeed, somehow.



My thoughts are full of what the young whore said

When she talked about the tower.

The tales she told still ring around my head

Of its long-forgotten power.

Tales, no more, as I know all too well.

I explored the place, it was a burned-out shell--

But suppose we had another tale to tell

To beguile the weary hour?



(INSTRUMENTAL)



My mind is turning - have I gone insane

Or could this be the plan we need?

Could the fever dream of a demented brain

Be the way my land is freed?

Dare I show this scheme to my desperate friends?

If I don't, how else can we achieve our ends?

This could be the answer on which all depends

If we act with decisive speed:

Let us see what happens when their Flame contends

With the light of the Starsent's seed!