Rendering our hearts and minds to business we value most,
A proverbial relative personal holy ghost.
Chin up and clenching fist; cold heart and soothing mist,
That devil, of too much power did he boast.
Unchanging, and always breathing, this cancer is a test,
To discern who is who, to wear freedom’s crest.
O freedom, my freedom reigns; O fiend, you fiend it pains,
Plagues this home, this best abode, a sad forgotten nest.
But ponder more, soul those clumsy rights I wrought,
By whose authority my life untimely brought.
Birthed right once before, to die wrong twice the more,
Our worst actions reveal what we always thought.
He that is, if he is, king of all that I survey,
Will not be me, by my monthly servant’s pay.
Controlled, to one knee; avert mine eyes so he,
May rule accordingly, alive the suppliants pray.
No comments:
Post a Comment