Some poems I have discovered

I discovered a curious book of poems the other day, which was entitled: "Prose by a Willow Tree". Since I am well assured that willow trees cannot write prose, I must therefore give up any hope of the author's name and simply write these down as anonymous.

This was called "untitled no.1", appropriate name in my opinion.

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His body was broken; he wandered far,

Under darkness, and under star,

He spoke with the greatest of the Three that Are,

For neither fire nor shame could shake him.

Down, down, down he strode, through the dungeons of our pride,

Shining a light forgotten by the goblins there that hide,

Shattering chains with the words of hope that killed the kings of old,

Lifting whimpering emperors from their molding heaps of gold,

Reminding the ancient statue men what wait they had seen in store for them,

And leading a growing host, that longed for countless years to follow him.

Kings long withered from spells broke free, wind and song did herald them,

Blinking away the enchantments grey, that blinded and imprisoned them.

Stewards that had awaited a return, looked at last and knew,

That the young that had shriveled was finally gone, and the sea and tree were made new.

Here was the second poem, which I found somewhat confusing but very inspiring:
(This one was entitled "untitled no.2")
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Beyond the smoldering towers above,

Higher than the smoke that marks our pride,

A single lantern burns with love,

That the fumes of war cannot completely hide.

Our leaders are lacking, our empire falls,

Our watchmen and rulers have torn down our walls,

Inside our stronghold they gamble and plot,

While the furnaces of war burn red and burn hot.

Our people are frightened: they know not their fear,

They reach for their treasures and release what is dear,

The bowls of the angels fill up to their brims,

But we blot out the trumpet and ignore what we hear.

But when the sun grows dim and the sky grows black,

When we go forward in progress and forget to look back,

It’s times like those when our courage must show,

And the faith that that lantern-even hidden-will glow.

The towers may topple and the foundations may shake,

Our laws may be broken and our safe houses quake,

But truth is still truth, just as faith shall still burn,

And though smoke cloud our eyes, we must hope for the morn.

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