And of the mountains, atop the trees;
Of the skies, echoing Sun: the Sun,
And they whispered light so few and free,
Bid Sun well so; now glory is light gone.
Ah, life! How much you kiss me,
Each path a maze in maze of mazes!
Whether right or left comes fog arrest,
So cast me from here to Your sages,
But you shall not, for it is all a test:

Did I ask then to be born for such a test?
How now shall I ask be acquit for rest?
Each fellow walking, and each soul forbearing,
People to me, then, are like shadows fading,
Through rise comes a new shadow nearer found,
Yet on the close of Sun, such shadows dysound,
Here my path begins, against my will You motion.
I notion. I walk, I respite the cruel and gruel this task.
I am the average man walking a running notion,
Then whichever of me comes nearer You yea fast
Give him the interview yearning. The questions asked,
For it is then, these mountains still, may yet to ask!
I have fought, and I have fought, though it is not served
Whilst all the worlds parting, and shadows come to ask:

Why bother walking the path subtle and yet to sight?
Can you not see it's a waste of precious time in right?
Lo! The finest boys and girls your finest art to divine!
Why, now? What's this religion you spell its name?

But I reject this and that so free,
I cannot in my life dwell this free,
Away all pleasures! The path I have,
So soothing, so simple, my art to have,
This simple thought I long for better,
Ne he be never the man once in letter:
So forthcoming ere exiled and estranged,
My token ye call Honour is all but strange,
In life I was the man who dealt all, had all,
And in earnest truth my haves became my fall,
This weight I carry, if be womb of my mind
Shall grow by hormone alone in sweeter find
That I knew had been so sweet so lost its taste,
And in this reality known how little I faced,
What to do or who shall I be? Man or muscle?
If so easy to choose am I so colossal,
Nay, for infinitesimal me is sounding me,
My past so bitter as the wine taking me,
I shall whip my ego a thousand chains behind,
I shall weep in tears no God could here unbind,
Oh, God: did I ask of thee from ash to man born?
Did my words not come ere clear the cord be sawn?
Having known the path to honour is a mist in wait,
With drooping tears I kneel before a path come late,
And this honour I yearn is but forekind onslaught,
That I myself so honourable now can eye this lot,
So mind, strike me down this night I am mad,
Woken up, in this silence of brood decaying bad,
Cast the light, cast the dark, all the same,
If not the same, what is to become so lame?
My sanity is my madness; that honour is game.

I am lost between time and space,
My people, from centuries yond gone,
Have come to me from shadow long,
Is but the flame that seeks company,
Is but a flame that seeks shelter,
Who knew the God he was ere bestow,
My meagre mind could never fold,
The art of haste mine ample flaw,
To see you now is higher than high,
On levy my heart who could not spell,
Thy name so holy, thy name unknown.
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