Whale-song

Another fantasy-poem. This one isn't too sad.


The Eastern Whales, the descendants of Tranalri,
Who sing under ancient stars, and under open sea,
In search of Hidden Tralvinurr,
The place once of their ancestors, a place of old lore.

None, in all the many realms of the deep,
Know where Hidden Tralvinnur lies,
Where time itself seems to have fallen asleep,
Who's timeless sea-beds age defies.

And so the Whales are singing,
bellowing heavily in the waves,
In hope to hear the reverbration,
That all of Whale-race craves.

That echoes across the sea so vast,
And fills the crying shades of blue,
And Hidden Tralvinurr sings back,
humming the whalesong, great and true.

The rocks of Hidden Tralvinurr,
Will echo out the whale-tune,
When it hears that song again, once more,
Under the glowing palor of the moon.

Perhaps the Whales may find their place,
Where krill and herring come in numbers great,
Rebuild their slowly dwindling race,
And restore the broken Cetamor State.

On the Ocean throne of Anidralut,
A mighty whale-king may yet again arise,
And retake from the pirates, their stolen loot,
That the whale-song may again shake the waves and skies.

But of yet, the kingdom of the Western Whales,
Again, has gone asleep,
Dormant through the winters,
Till awakened from the Deep.

And when the once-fallen land, Tralvinurr, has awakened,
Deep will be the singing of the whale-song.
The foes of cetaceans may be shaken,
And broken the manacles that had held the Free Lords so long

The Eastern Whales, the descendants of Tranalri,
Who sing under ancient stars, and under open sea,
In search of Hidden Tralvinurr,
The place once of their ancestors, a place of old lore.