29 November 2008

royal command

to mete out magics is no complex task
a sterner duty comes to try the heart
we leave the hangman to his gentle art
and do not hear the hungry when they ask
for dryest crumbs nor grant drops from the flask
compassion is not what we would call smart
just fling the bodies on the diggers' cart
and do not seek to look behind the mask
so many lies and all upon the page
that  hide plain fact behind a scrim of glare
we would not have you see the world entire
as simple subject for your honest rage
nor yet as calling forth a word of rage
respectful silence now until the fire

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