Histories
Are you thinking about that time,
Before the Great War?
When our land was still proud,
An empire once holy.
I don't remember those days,
Hapsburg fell before my time.
I was barely even sixteen,
When the great wolf came to power.
You used to tell stories when you still spoke,
Before the boy stole your voice.
You where five when your father died,
Fighting Napoleons' hordes.
You yourself joined Hapsburg's forces,
When you finally came of age.
Only to find yourself stranded,
Upon that barren plain.
You fought your very life away,
Against those cursed ones.
Till the moon died in the sand,
And you where left alone.
What then?
Your silence speaks little.
You used to tell stories,
About those grand court balls.
In Schoenberg,
And Vienna.
The ladies like blossoms,
And promenading fey,
And the gentlemen all attentive to them.
You spoke of the soldier emperor,
Dressed ever like a guard,
And his lady fair by his side.
The most beautiful girl in all of the western world.
How tragedy struck that lovely pair.
Three daughters, one son alone.
The daughters,
They drifted so far away.
And the son lost his life,
On that autumn day.
He is gone,
Nothing can bring him back.
After that Mayerling tragedy,
It all crumbled down.
His cousin is assassinated,
Now who shall wear the crown,
As the war drums beat on and on.
That's as far as you ever went,
With those histories you spin.
But that same thoughtful light still burns.
How will you tell me your tales?
Now you just silently watch my every move.
And will you tell others of me,
When I'm dead and gone?
Of the girl with the braids,
And the innocent eyes,
And a smile that would make a shark proud.