Young Writers Society

Firetaming and storytelling

Don’t you remember, when were but boys?
The world collapsing, in ripples of noise
When we as children in the forgotten land,
Slipped through the town like an hour glass' sand.
One person called it Russia, another the U.S.S.R
The land we knew disappeared with the Tsar.
One man said long ago "This democracy is a joke"
And away the city went up in raging seas of smoke ,
And our father wanted to stop the flames,
Trying to match the faces to the lost names.
But he never found us again, we were alone
Two small brothers, with nowhere to call home.
Days passed on the streets, cold and crude.
But there was one man who taught us good.
The storyteller, the crinkled eyes that danced with delight
Who spoke of crystals, rubies and a need to fight.
Without his wisdom, we may never have tired
To get back our place that forgotten land denied.