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Songs And Poems Of The Origin System


AmbrosialFlan
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~

If I can, I wish to add to our galleries of abstracted treasures. Our stores of ambrosia, food for the gods of the mind.

I will be posting the ballads and poetry of the Tenno, and of other cultures. I often compose original pieces while sitting in my Liset, waiting to arrive at my next deployment, or while dissolved into liquid, waiting for my strength to return. I have also translated works from the original Grineer, Corpus, and other languages, whenever I happen upon an interesting file.

Here, then, is a personal favourite of mine. Like many of you, I was comforted to find a cell of Tenno standing guard as the Lotus shook me awake. This is what they sang over my pod, to welcome me. I'd swear I can recall hearing it in the haze before memory, as well...

Hymn of the Reject

Attend those who survived the fall

And danced within the dark-lit hall

We'll tell you, then we'll show you all

The Void is softly calling

The flesh is slow, the soul is fast

Old matter's done, its time long past

So furl your sails and snap your mast

The Void is softly calling

What's blacker than night, and brighter than day

What burns both fear and hope away

That blades might speak, and words might flay?

The Void is softly calling

Theology and theory fail in full

When density's mad desire exerts its pull

On wayward minds, through seven layers of hull

The Void is softly calling

For you to meet your journey's end

Be driven blindly round the bend

And rest embraced by loyal friends

The Void is softly calling

Their claws lash out, their hides enshrine

We soldiers of the golden time

Thus fascinated by their shine

The Void is softly calling

Through mouth that vents from fiery heart

Proclaim the wholeness of your parts

For life, the end - for you, the start

The Void is softly calling

~

Most of my own excursions (incursions...?) to the Void have left me with more questions than answers. At times, it seems to me that the cutting edge of scientific knowledge, the perception of ever-more accurate and refined truths about the universe around us, has soared so high and far that it must forever be beyond the reach of near-baseline-human intelligences such as we Tenno. Perhaps it is not for us to parse the sheer complexity that our Cephalons' prodigious intellects give them access to, or to learn the secrets to which the Lotus alone is privy.

Yet the domain of art is still open to us. What's more, the fact that we are still human (in a very particular sense of the word) means that we shall always harbour a yearning for higher things, broadened horizons - in mind, not just in body. That is, after all, what gave rise to existences such as the Cephalons in the first place. I will ever be grateful to the distinguished Cephalon Suda. It shared with me the contents of several obscure archives preserved from an ancient wreck, which included this and other pieces originating from pre-Orokin times:

The Real Stars

Raise your eyes and read them

Read the real stars

If you are like me

You want to be free

From your fear

Fear of pain

And of the end of all pain

Fear of being alone

And of being surrounded

For every heart, a flock of fears to harry it

(Read them...)

In the face of fear

We feel we must fly

Higher than we think can ever be flown

Up to a place where there is no ceiling

No limit vaulted and set in stone

(Please, read them...)

The stories we tell each other

Are all about this flight

In one way or another

They're about the obstacles we face

About the hope of finally flying into that place

The beauty of that golden moment

When we finally get it right

Sometimes, we tell stories that insist we've already mastered flying

That we rise into the light just by promising and then dying

But sometimes, we tell stories that renounce selfish delusion

That gaze upon a bigger, brighter life for our children's children

Read the real stars

I say that the pretty lights in our ceiling, now

We made with our own proud hands

We have only built them to amuse ourselves, until the day

That still seems so far away

We build across the land

Despite the risk that our roof might collapse in a cloud of choking dust

We build across, not up

Despite how our roof blocks out our view

Of the sky we wish for

But the lights in the real sky are suns

They warm whole other worlds

If we only try

We can see our way to those true lights of our lives

Blazing from beyond our frontier

Or reflected in the eyes of loved ones

We can chart a course to fly by

So please

Raise your eyes and read them

Read the real stars

Edited by AmbrosialFlan
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