Make a Wish

In Gavony, they say it is a rule,
That he who makes a wish is but a fool,
And weakness claims that poor man’s mind and heart.
Yet still in whispered voices they might say,
That when their neighbor’s eyes are turned away,
A wise man and his coin will soon depart.

For countless ages, angels watched above,
With humankind protected by their love,
Their justice coming quick to beastly crimes,
But every light casts shadows on the ground,
And safety is a jewel that’s rarely found,
When man is locked in dark and deadly times.

The binds of faith were proven to be flawed,
When Avacyn was lost to Innistrad,
And hope was ripped from clouded, darkened skies.
The loss of hopeful, sweet angelic faces,
Forced humankind to search in deeper places,
To find the desperate bed where hope now lies.

We learned quite well what hopefulness is worth,
And some believed it dwelled beneath the earth,
Within some sacred spot twixt us and hell,
And many came to pay whatever cost
Was needed to regain what we had lost,
By tossing silver coins into a well.

In Gavony, they say that it is weak,
To vainly hope for anything you seek,
And dreams are merely nets to catch a fish.
But still, when no one’s looking, they will join
That weaker flock, and grab a silver coin,
To drop it in a well and make a wish.