Ere that new sun inflames the horizon,
fore this eon departs here and now,
I will, at helm of my soul mast mizzen
I resolve never to kneel nor bow.
For I am the keeper of my own gates,
I am He who divines no sweet heaven,
I will thus never to poison the fates
of my fallen dreams in hopes to leaven.
I swear upon all that I question
that I shall strive to spend a life,
host to light, to valor a bastion,
to fall an end and too endless strife.
A day does come, yet a day has left,
with grains of sand my walls do rise,
and as my hands do pray a’cleft
so do the heavens for this suns demise.
I do not find among the borders I wish to
reach with ease, that great proof of life.
Perhaps, it is, for I have not yet been to
the fringes of these bleak notions of strife.
Passive may be, my receding will of being,
perhaps, it is, for I have no burdens to bear.
That proof of life I do not intend on seeing,
perhaps, it is, for beyond, no border lies there.
So be it, that I may fall this moment,
never to rest tween gentle unrest.
Too please, my seas of discontentment,
frolick upon my shores nor breast.
I shall hope to witness such days,
or rise and fall of every sun,
where in its empire shall my gaze
no longer hope to witness but none.
Then shall I know rest or solace?
shall I then know rest from solace?
Until shall I deride dismay,
I shall not know, their nor mine way
Every endless afternoon I waste while lying sleepless,
is wasted more if left in vain without the breathless wind.
And if that wind has not yet bathed with the silent monsoon,
the garden warm with scent of pears is surely wasted too.
Exhaling wafts of warm perfume, every stretch of earth
reminds me how I used to breathe your hair more than the air,
and if those pears can tell me not the reason I must rest
afraid I am to say while yawning, myself am wasted too.
Deign to draw, I! this divulging breath,
I draw compare too, pray of those needs,
yours, then mine, too our lives, zenith,
fate unto will, by fault doth leads.
Didst thou fail to gaze this way,
or ego faltered thy in that falling?
May thou endure forever I pray,
May thou live forever my darling.
Whence did I swear upon each branch,
to keepest count of all dying Robbins?
nor once didst thou relent thy staunch
culling of those joyful innocent sins.
Of all that I may draw thus now,
of life this end, of love this bow.
May thou live until the end of days,
I pray thou endure forever my grace.