A New Year.

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.