11/02/2016

#poem #poetry #amwriting #sketchbook f

no poor neutral he who answers summons
upon the throne so shaken. When majesty
lays aside the sceptred right: to slink away
with standard raised to that blasted place
of rain: and there attempt to reign by sword
and fire. To starve is insolent, to beg
upon a door unguarded, folly in extreme

Let not anticipation retrospect
of paradise; that we create; divert us
from the task. If wolves we are then wolves
we breed. Of our feral nature be rewarded.

Our soul, that part of us forever free,
belongs not on bended need to monarchs,
no matter what corporal infliction invents.
For the character alone is straw and clay.