The Speech

Although my mind cannot resolve what's worthy or a'right,
I've been laboring over it through half a day and howling night.

Although assuredly it should be winged and sublime,
The clock infamously clicking, tells me I do not have the time,

Although it may sound impish and a little short on reason's rhyme,
The ghastly speech full writ, do angels see the crime?

Although I have no desire to odiously remind,
Of lurking shadows plaintiff, figments from the mind

Although I try with brave facade and knightly charade pretend,
To myself proclaim, oh will this living nightmare never ever end.

Although the stately podium and lectern like the coffin do oppose,
I lift my nerve-ridden hand and from my seat quietly arose.

Although I appear quite sound and seem to all near calm,
I feel so like a clammy corpse, red knives brightly to embalm.

Although my hands are wrung with sweat and rebellious tremble round,
Through rotting senses orate and obscure mysteries propound.

Although it left me twitching and painfully did contort,
Now it's nearly over, the spasms hellish sport.

Although I must remark and forthright do contend,
That my blood was chilling eerily as I neared that fateful end.

Although with faltering voice and wavering with ghostly mingled tones,
All is done, though shall It still be whilst ghouls disturb my bones.