The Yoke of Faith

The tears in my mother’s eyes last night

Only foreshadowed the despair,

Which awoke at my side with the morning.

 

I heard labored weeping in the next room over.

The first time I heard the king weep within his chamber,

The queen by his side, weathering heaves.

 

Where is divine right

When the heavens claim a prince before peace?

Are the wishes of men reduced to those of mice?

 

A tender mix of dust and divinity,

And to the first we must return.

The latter, by faith, from which we will never be able to depart.

 

Reviews

[nostal]

Very touching.
Nice write.