Adam’s Ale: The Song of Water

The King’s army, as cold as ice and violent as thunderstorms

Marching from the valley civilizations.

To conquer the lands of the gentle breeze and shallow waters

The drizzles and puddles of water cannot stop them as from within,

Their hearts are etched with the vigor of a waterfall.

They carry the treasures of blessed rainfall and frolic in riverbanks nearby

Their tears are the drops in an ocean as they forgot what their home in the sky, clouds, and beyond look like.

The home was the dewdrops that filled their parched lips

The victory was the rainfall that graced their battle

They sought after the glacier-covered mountains for a sojourn after their long journey throughout each valley

The villagers caught a whiff of the vapors crying out war in the air

The terrible war splattered and gushed out a pool of blood and bodies

The drought and dry winds followed as the great war ended.


Then came the drops of acid that washed the stench of the dead

Whirlpools, hailstones, and the thundering wrath of God began to

End the ancient fable. 

The glacial warriors melted to form the youth of tomorrow

With the vigor and valor of the roaring seas, they flow down as

The path guides them.

Hardened by ice and as continuous as a stream,

They march to confront the ocean

This is the war of Adam’s ale and the perennial sources

That flows into their mother,

For the life that never ends.

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