But man alone in his haste decreed,
Is not so perfect a man indeed;
Where walks he in the utmost dark,
In the mind swept under the moon,
Listens to himself the mind speaks,
Reads again the words himself says,
Breathes the thin air so far nascent,
Alas, tis only not but air pleasant
Though free and but just solely so,
Cannot think of none but escape,
For all men effect the actions here,
But few to see the reactions there.
Ere he walks to a final resting place,
Kneels down and the hands that fist,
The eyes that gauge into the darkness,
The silent words once thought thus said,
To make him man lest his honour be laid,
Astound that he in his skin does serve,
Knighted his heart with a crown of silk
To cover the bleeding edge that once fare,
Sunk his head downward to the floor,
Enshrouded by black air where none speak,
Shadowed by darkness where only lingers he,
Lends his sight upward in no gesture free,
But none to walk but better he instead,
Tailors his honour to an almighty stead,
Grieves the answer to his silent protest:
Where once I am born be mould me man,
How so that I was born this way to be?
Nor not mine but decision made in stone,
Given this body by You my honour is swept,
This burden I carry and so my sons shall,
To grow and then to learn again to fail,
But then to know more lest never to fail,
As in the dark I shine the light to see,
For nor mine eyes greater than ye to see,
Has brought me to the mistake I only made,
To the circle that lowers me down to knee,
Breathes the abyss that covers me to fade,
As gesture mine honour is grace to plea,
At once my lonely state is ought to learn,
Is only to learn to be ought this state far,
Where walks I to the utmost shore endeared,
Crafts the boat that will take me away,
That I shall sink again into unending dismay,
To come back here again a better man learnt,
Thus sat down with my father in no words spent,
Then to give my son the rope to cut them free,
Know the ways of ancient creed is thus desired,
Once again passes as I slowly pass away.