In a land with no knowledge
no truth
no individuals
and
no justice
Each word has lost all meaning
each difference and subtly worn
to another indistinct brick
in the pile of what was once
an art and a long-lost
reminder of times long-forgotten
when the dust of ignorance
corrupted no syllable and
only the foolish were truly silent
even in their own minds
Hero is but a name
as devoid of everything
as everything else
to utter to anypony
who met every standard
and was but a sum
of their flimsy ideals
and only a dash more assertion
to go with their polished exterior
(to reflect each lie so it was something greater, so they might feel untouchable)
and unneeded worship
and make up for
twice the hollowness
In a time with neither
light or dark all heroes
are just repeats
and tired examples
of inadequacy
(that few will admit)
trimmed with faint glorifications
for no reason at all
they are that twisted
word
it is their name
as each dull echo blends
into the last
a truly featureless face
that disappears in a blink
(as if there were identity to begin with)
which comes from time spent
looking at all this
for so long,
a world that lacks
what it was
(almost-nearly-everything)
and
has no knowledge or will
to swim
when it can so willingly
sink
The greatest of all the
tattered society's holes
in a dull and muted
fabric, frayed to
the point of fading
despite the scarring
effect of the existence
it leads
This is the tear
with the richest blue
cape
many would have seen
dotted with stars
that bear no liking
to the lights
that shine through the
everyday oblivion
A belled hat
hides his eyes
and announces his presence
before his
annoyed shouts
slur-laden
and impatient have
caught up with the ring
He always had
so much of
nothing
with meaning
with insight
with tact
to say to
anypony at all
Wizard only because he
knew something beyond court meetings
and castes
however trivial and false
it might be
Scholar only because
he bothered to own a book
(and use it)
instead of the customary spear
and his line was
too noble to degrade
Strange because
he lived away from civilization
in a valley all his own
where he kept
two caged birds
He never fought any battle
except with the things he yelled
and the hooves he pointed
to everypony else
he had no friends
no youth he would ever speak of
only unreasonable outbursts
to every little thing
Starswirl the obnoxious noble
(named for his beard in later years)
never smiled once
never thanked anypony for
anything, no matter how
crooked the favor
He only got what he wanted
by force and had no time
for anypony — even himself — at all
dismissing any and every
wonder
dream
and love
as less than nothing
Often by his side
ordered about on a whim
to run there
fetch that
travel here
and quiet down
when she would barely
even speak
except in the half-remembered
parables of a foalhood
she never had were
clear in a mind
that barely knew any magic
except for
how to take a burlap sack
or two
any dusty, cast aside rags
sew them together to
shelter a pink coat and
the brightest green mane
so she might be looked
over despite her normalcy
and know only how to
disappear