Author's Note: I really have no idea where this came from, but Klingons are cool and Mr. Worf is my favorite character of all time. Thank you. *bows*
Heart of Blood, Heart of Light
In the beginning times, when the world was crying,
Like a newborn infant, driven from the mother,
The stars were formed on an anvil of steel,
Fire was tamed from the depths of darkness.
It mingled with blood and stormed through the sky,
And the Klingon was born.
The skies wept and the worlds trembled,
Because the Klingon was born.
And they knew they would never be the same.
To others is given the gift of song,
The painting of words, the breaking of colors.
But the Klingon walks the path of war,
The Klingon's blood is heated by battle.
His blade is risen, his teeth are bared,
And death will strike that day.
The Klingon is the wild child,
He forges his own way, willful and stubborn,
Wonderful and strong, yet all too unmindful,
Of the time when the world was crying,
When the fire was untamed, and the world was dark,
And the Klingon was yet unmade.
He is unmindful of the other ways,
Of the song and the words and the color.
His heart beats strong with blood and heat,
But it is alone, so alone.
Kul'har will lead the Klingon, one by one,
He will break the heart of blood and heat,
He will bend the heart of steel, and fill it with light.
When all old things are made new, the Klingon will understand.
He will bow to the wisdom of Kul'har.
But a Klingon does not bow.
He bites the reigns and tosses his head.
He burns his own path through the stars.
He will not be led, he will only lead.
And the tears will fall before the end.
But one by one, they will be led.
One by one, the tears will fall.
But their hearts will be full of light,
And Kul'har will teach them.