Forgotten Times

I.

In faraway lands, we danced,

circling the fires with painted faces.

The standing stones kept their vigil,

timeless, even in that long ago age.

Wild and free, servants to no man,

we had not yet bent or bowed;

not yet succumbed to outside forces;

not yet become the outside force.

II.

There’s a whisper in the wind tonight,

an ancient voice that calls to me,

reminding me of what we are;

of what we once were.

A vague, uneasy feeling tugs

somewhere deep within my mind,

the phantom of something missing,

left back in forgotten times.