Mightier Than The Sword

INTRO/VERSE 1:

A lonely morning, a darkened room

where pen is set to page;

the cards are shuffled, the crowd muffled

as the hero takes the stage.

He believes in a journey, a mission so right

that the brightness inside him

will light up the night.

But the hand that guides him has other schemes:

it will take great suffering to achieve his dreams,

and as the young fool on his horse plots his course,

a darkness falls over the vale.

CHORUS:

We always hurt the thing we love,

the bloodshed births a silver dove,

and the moon’s a portent high above

as the traveler stumbles on.

VERSE 2:

Trust is the first of the monsters he meets,

disguised as a child alone in the streets,

beckoning him forward,

help me good sir!

as it draws him into its cave.

He sees the faces of the people he knows,

trapped in the stone and ahead of him glows

the hot yellow eyes of the beast that wakes.

CHORUS:

We always hurt the thing we love,

the bloodshed births a silver dove,

and the moon's a portent high above

as the traveler stumbles on.

VERSE 3:

He draws his sword, his lips pressed tight,

the fire inside him prepared for the fight.

As the creature comes in for the kill,

our hero's hand shakes on the hilt,

he dreams briefly of sunrise and his lover's sweet lilt,

as with his blade he extinguishes an eye.

The dragon, angry, screams and thrashes,

its breath throws flame, turns all to ashes

and the sword falls broken to the ground.

BRIDGE:

The great hand shakes, a tear breaks

upon a featureless face.

But a god of mercy fails to create,

so the cards keep coming down.

CHORUS:

We always hurt the thing we love,

the bloodshed births a silver dove,

and the moon's a portent high above

as the traveler stumbles on.

VERSE FOUR/OUTRO:

Somewhere far away spring has come,

one story ended, another begun.

another knight born under an auspicious sun,

and the dealer shuffles again.

CHORUS:

We always hurt the thing we love,

the bloodshed births a silver dove,

and the moon's a portent high above

as the traveler stumbles on.

CHORUS VARIATION 2:

We always hurt the thing we love,

the pen’s ink births a blood red dove,

and the moon's a portent high above

as the writer stumbles on.

About the band:

The Archetypes is a fictional rock band made up of fiction authors, which is just as inception-like and confusing as it sounds. A four-character unit, they adorn themselves in dark fantasy attire when taking the stage and craft epic tales in their songs. The Archetypes like to think of themselves as modern bards. The name of this song was inspired by the proverb, “The pen is mightier than the sword”, a sentiment that has many applications but that any author who’s ever killed their darlings is sure to understand.

The author of this Vocal piece (more inception, ahh!!) can’t actually sing or write music, though they do enjoy poetry and found this a really cool writing exercise. Just for a fun bonus though, here’s a very imperfect AI rendition of what this song might sound like “in action”: