There is an old spoken tale of fate, spun low beneath this world of hate.
Where princes, sheiks, and dukes of sorts, are heroic men in Lordly court.
Upon the seas of Caspian,flotilla a ship with mast and hands.
All on deck yet under the lee, a tragic death so silently.
Yet master of the men on deck, had hung around his neck his best.
And our father in the solemn sky, found truth in his and her sharp cries.
A deal was struck, a pact was made, to see his love again that day.
Ten years at sea, One day on Land, this covenant of promised land.
It's been 30 years to this very day, and on this spot our lady prays.
As young as she'd been that moment wept, the sun gave rise, our hero kept.
III
Sunday, August 1, 2010
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