05 October 2008

uncertain pilgrimage

each writes the tale  upon a golden leaf
no safer record for so short a time
age after age the truth beggars belief
we think that honest labour is a crime
when all our hopes are cast into the slime
your choice is simple just cast out the blame
the monster's wild that you thought mild and tame
no hope is placed in partner or in friend
who knows the rules of this most profane game
we seek the melted snow of last weekend

the winner turns out just one more old thief
who casts his words in good old-fashioned rhyme
and promises that he'll be firmly brief
but does not move you into the sublime
before the clock has uttered its first chime
such matters will not lead you out of shame
but are the sort of thing that fools might claim
to make you bow or lead you now to bend
hoping to turn you from your steady aim
we seek the melted snow of last weekend

pain of great loss produces no more grief
than could be borne in such a foreign clime
as this there is no wisdom seeks relief
or hopes to gain a dollar or a dime
we've reached the bottom and we must now climb
past all the horrors that we cannot name
knowing that no good thought will stay the same
and that our duty no one would commend
still though our feet are tired and very lame
we seek the melted snow of last weekend

prince you have mastery of wind and flame
your state is great in glory and acclaim
but to this act you may not condescend
beyond the limits of the human frame
we seek the melted snow of last weekend

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