
A poetic work meditating on human history that decries the endless chronicling of sorrow, conflict, and loss. The text rejects the traditional, grim record of wars, tyrants, and tragedies, portraying historical narratives as burdened with relentless tales of bloodshed and despair. It expresses a deep fatigue with accounts of endless violence, royal conquests, and the pain borne by countless victims, suggesting that written histories perpetuate a cycle of remembered anguish. In contrast, the work recalls moments of warmth and vibrant life—sunlit joy, the sound of celebratory music, dancing, and seasonal renewal—that offer a counterpoint to the overwhelming gloom of recorded events. These memories of beauty and communal celebration serve as a reminder that life, despite its historical misfortunes, also brims with passion, love, and transient delight. Framed as both a lament and a call for re-evaluation, the text challenges the reader to question the value of a historical record saturated with misery. It implies that the extraordinary beauty found in the everyday—the nightingale’s song, moonlight, the bloom of a rose—holds a power that transcends the narrow confines of documented sorrow. Ultimately, the work positions itself as an appeal to embrace the ephemeral and redeeming aspects of human experience as a corrective to histories that have long been dominated by despair, urging a rediscovery of the life-affirming moments lost in the relentless accumulation of grim records.
By Virna Sheard · First published 1915 · Genre: Literary Fiction, Historical Fiction, Elegy · 286 words
I weary of the histories of men -- The garnered store of books in grim array; Life's bitter salvage, leather-bound, and then Left to the silence and a bloom of gray.
I weary of the stories that they hold; The clash of arms sounds through them like a knell; I weary of the Kings in crowns of gold, The Kings victorious, and the Kings who fell.
There are too many tears on every page; Too red a tide sweeps every chapter in; There is no word of peace in any age, Except the peace that death rode forth to win.
And old unhappiness, long wrapped in sleep, And thrice-armed feud that passed in wrath and woe, And white despair from many a dungeon keep, Arise to haunt us still, where'er we go.
Histories is listed on Textopian as a short story by Virna Sheard, dated 1915 CE.
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historical fiction · family saga · period drama · generational conflict · social change · romantic undertones · epic narrative · cultural heritage · personal growth · betrayal · destiny · resilience