I have never travelled beyond me
nor spoken of my dreams, to the passing hoypoloi.
I am recognized for standing amid the flowers
spliced between a sea of graceful waving grasses,
behoving the ruddy heathen masses
who congregate my battles shore.
Always yet, as far away from perpetuity
as life is to – freedom
there are responses that only you can understand.
Yet before I goad them exposed,
draining their discomfort like some maiden
lying sick about her bed –
Would you keep pace with me, just this once
in this our house of my distress?
Oh, I know
there are less demanding crusades I could
well have considered asking.
But tell me please
where does heaven end its passage
permitting hell to keep me – mercilessly entertained.