Akaasi 21: Muse

To each his wont, each man his want,
and to each muse, her silent might
with which her lover she does haunt,
his rest of days, and all his nights.

Stood Who Last, Those Last Departing

Ti’s a pity for pity to not find,
in an hour such as this its way
to those who adhered in its hind
and lead the bleak souls of dismay,
from fates blackened, vacant hope,
joyless aim, and aimless hunger,
into such hopes which did elope
with equal lives fore them asunder.
Doth not suffice for wretchedness
to have such monuments in woe,
but as its wonting shall it dress
all glory red, for us to know.
I watch their children emerging
with languid eyes and weary airs
from their fathers side weeping
to bleed in their due place unfair.
I hope for children of their thence
I fear for children their instead
host to fates made recompense
for our fates all else I dread.
Who are they, who muffled suffer,
tears of whom know slumber none,
life whom perchance silenced utter
which hath found its rest in some,
for those in whom is yet to set,
those who have not yet to feign
apathy to the breath of death
I fear have found in departing gain.

Bohemian Romance

Ever and over, at moments and then,
I ask thee with intent, choric I ‘fess.
Placid, passive, yet of most sudden,
abrogate that which I fell for then lest,
devoid of earthly delight or wanting,
I were to find ease leaving it be,
or dub then ‘morseful I past yearning,
bohemian romance, thou as well me.