A Ranger Rides These Fens Tonight

A ranger rides these fens tonight,

On a task eons old.

They’ve come to flood the land again.

They’ve come to break the world.

The veil of time is thinner here;

So they sail the ancient sea.

Marsh Harrier and Sparrowhawk.

Fen violet, bladderwort, marsh pea.

The Birching House and Manor d'Moor,

Navy scars on ancient soil.

But the land they take is primal land,

And the waters shall end their toil.

And the silver in these ivory halls,

Shall drown, be cast away.

Their palaces left to tired folks,

Our needs their riches pay.

When the waters come, old gods'll rise -

The faeries in the hills.

The straw men and the rusted ploughs,

And the creeping things that kill.

Lost kingdoms buried underfoot,

Shall be revived, shall live again.

And the seekers’ ships from across the sea,

Shall be loved and taken in.

When the waters come and floods rampage,

The ranger will stand back and sigh.

At the ending of the old way,

And the next one drawing nigh.

A ranger rides these fens tonight,

Peddling tales of freedom and peace.

And the people whisper among themselves.

And know it’s our secret to keep.