Where the rivers of Tython flow,
Made bitter by ashes of cities cast down,
Like potters' rejects now shattered and forgotten,
By a Stygian sea, where asphodels did grow,
And where heroes' deeds had been begotten,
Could I show you the Force in but a blade,
And in the lives it has unmade?
The Force is in life, not in killing,
But Odan-Urr, it's heroes stood,
Against the forces of darkness,
Seeking to dash them against the rocks,
Like a callous tide to a man adrift,
And though outnumbered, fought for Good.
Like an iron gate against Perdition,
Have the Jedi stood as sentinel,
Against temptation within and blade without,
They fought ignorance with erudition,
Fought absolutes with wisdom's doubt,
Fought tempestuousness with the signs of peace,
And fought desire, with sweet release,
And with no death, did worries cease,
Those fallen in our name,
Their lightsabers clasped in calmest claw,
Given strength by courage,
Their knuckles unwhitened by tension or rage,
Releasing their swords of sunlight only as they drew their final breath,
But there was only the Force, and never death,
And their lives live on in archive page,
Why?
Why is the Path of Light so heavy to lift,
While Darkness deceives you in its levity?
Perhaps it is our House's destiny,
It's fate woven in the weft of time,
To shoulder the burdens others may not,
So in the light, through goodness wrought,
We are the ones so truly free,
Whilst shackled by shame the slave to darkness,
Is borne down by passion to bended knee.