Old Lore

Through the spanning ages are tales of feasts,
Ages enveloped by fire and beasts,
Heroes and kinship, castles spanning miles
Each one unique of meaning and styles
Each one like the purest thought of our mind
Compels it to forget life; to unwind
And dull customs which ail us in reality
Gently are washed away, while fantasy
Which in another mind does not exist
Within the other takes hold, it persists:
More surreal than the best of art we love
Full taste, or sense; mundane life is gone thereof
What is a more powerful snare than lore:
Stories we dream about, live out,  adore?
When imagaination turns to nothing
Life becomes an involuntary thing
Naught can sink in, to then be reproduced
Intellect has no edge, a will, or use;
Complete, unrestrained black nihilism
The prospect of love could never begin
So open a book and open your mind
So that what you've been missing you may find
Prehaps you will grow and be enlightened-
On the highroad which immortals transend