Nostalgia

The world was young, the mountains green,
no voice was raised against the frost.
The kindness done to friends and kin
was not yet counted as a loss.

The world was bold, the streams were fleet,
The power of speech and thought was free,
The blood ran free and strong and sweet,
like rivers flowing to the sea.

Before the world was old and gray
and all the colors turned to mold,
before the children fled away,
the world was young and green and gold.

For all the gold that’s been and gone,
for all the green that fades to gray,
for all the love that comes undone,
the world was young once’pon a day.

For all the mountains that do fall,
for all the rivers that run dry,
for all the hearts that stop and stall,
the world was quick in days gone by.

For all the dreams that turn to dust,
for all the hopes that fade away,
for all the grails that gather rust,
the world was bright once’pon a day.

For all the sorrows that befall,
for all the tears we have to cry,
for all the pain that comes to all,
the world was joy in days gone by.

But all things change with passing years,
and even mountains crumble and die.
The rivers run dry and the eyes shed tears,
and the truth in this world falls prey to the lie.

Yet though the world has lost its sheen,
and all its joys have turned so sore,
the memories of it young and green
will stay with us forever more.