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Description
No‘ne in this dank world
Recoils as much as I
For whence these words strike
Chords – alas! My heart it shall fly.
O’er the mountains far and wide
Jubilation rings oh-so-clear.
A soul takes flight, yet must abide
To commands of ages old;
“What hath God wrought?” Spake the lion,
His tale – it must be told!
“Whence I stand upon said land
My mates rise up against
This tyranny -- such must be manned
Else all shall fall in fear!”
“Speak,” they say. “Speak might’ly
Of conquest; in bedlan’ ne’er
A weakling won lads so gold!
Speak ‘ere not in tongues
Nor parables of ages old.”
I spake words that need be said
Yet closed mine mind to
Repetition, else this dread
Consume ‘ere lasting purity
O mercy – it she has stole
An’ fled wit’ masculinity
To sad loves of yester-year.
What be of me? A woeful man,
As to speak o’ love so dear
In words so blessed – O woe!
Hear mine words, mistake them not
For a baby’s whine or cry of foe;
I want not be a stranger – speak fast
Or ‘ere time shall surely come
Whence paths shall part an’ come a’ last
Freedom whence mine Lord forsake me!
These treacherous deeds; these fallacies
Are the demons from which I flee.
Hear me out, o love of mine,
For my words are none but pure.
Speak, mine love, perhaps time
Brings hope – a gift as to endure
The plagues of guilt, of shame, of lust –
Such demons they may be.
Break not mine heart; take not mine trust,
Else ‘ere love shall cease to be.

Description
No‘ne in this dank world
Recoils as much as I
For whence these words strike
Chords – alas! My heart it shall fly.
O’er the mountains far and wide
Jubilation rings oh-so-clear.
A soul takes flight, yet must abide
To commands of ages old;
“What hath God wrought?” Spake the lion,
His tale – it must be told!
“Whence I stand upon said land
My mates rise up against
This tyranny -- such must be manned
Else all shall fall in fear!”
“Speak,” they say. “Speak might’ly
Of conquest; in bedlan’ ne’er
A weakling won lads so gold!
Speak ‘ere not in tongues
Nor parables of ages old.”
I spake words that need be said
Yet closed mine mind to
Repetition, else this dread
Consume ‘ere lasting purity
O mercy – it she has stole
An’ fled wit’ masculinity
To sad loves of yester-year.
What be of me? A woeful man,
As to speak o’ love so dear
In words so blessed – O woe!
Hear mine words, mistake them not
For a baby’s whine or cry of foe;
I want not be a stranger – speak fast
Or ‘ere time shall surely come
Whence paths shall part an’ come a’ last
Freedom whence mine Lord forsake me!
These treacherous deeds; these fallacies
Are the demons from which I flee.
Hear me out, o love of mine,
For my words are none but pure.
Speak, mine love, perhaps time
Brings hope – a gift as to endure
The plagues of guilt, of shame, of lust –
Such demons they may be.
Break not mine heart; take not mine trust,
Else ‘ere love shall cease to be.