Surely You Jest!

A Cicero Inspired Poem From Skyrim!

I'm keeper, It's the way I have been shown
It's true, I do keep...I keep to my very own
I tend to mother, do unto her as I wish she'd do unto me
I've strained my ears for years...
Just to only hear whispers from a flea.

Have I disobeyed you, mother?
Have I done you some kind of wrong?
For it truly isn't fair
To keep poor Cicero waiting so long

Days go by and I haven't heard
You mutter, murmur or speak a word
Forsaken and forgotten is the ancient way
By Sithis alone, pretenders shall pay
The children don't even speak their mothers name
Blasphemous Sacrilege, it's all a shame

I've devoted my life to you, sweet matron
Yet I haven't been a reliable son?
Our blood is down to a trickle of kin
The only action down here is from the filthy vermin
Am I all that is left of our family tree?
Will all this have to be up to me?

Of course it does. I must be mother's voice!
Not that she asked me to, no, but do I have a choice?
If I must keep waiting on her word to go
I'm afraid it'll be curtains down for poor Cicero

I do all the seeking and seeing and speaking
All in hopes you'd come through
But how much longer must I wait, what MORE must I do?

And what if she can't hear me or worse, she isn't there?
Then all that I've done would be for nothing, that's something I can't bare.
It does make sense, to say the least, for her not to be real
In my most darkest hours, my sanity she did steal

The black sacrament is as false as her lies
The tenants are mere scratches, a wolf in disguise
Our lady is nothing more than a fool's fantasy
Created by a fool...who was just like me.

Poor Cicero, who were you to think she'd be true?
Let alone give a gift to someone like you?
I'm a nothing, a nobody, a joke in every way
Even if she did speak, what would I have to say?

No, it's all just one big laughing matter
All my hopes and dreams are beginning to shatter
But...hope is what keeps men living...
And screams are the gift that keeps on giving!

Why should I stop trying to hear
The words that would be oh so dear?
If she isn't real, then I've succumbed to the lie!
By her and our dread lord, innocence shall die!

Yet...no matter what I do or how hard anticipation knocks
She'll always just be a silent corpse in a box
But it's not fair, sweet mother, not fair at all
That you keep distant, when it's your name I call.
I've tried my hardest, I've done my best
But to remain silent?! Surely you jest!