Friday, 3 January 2014
And if all the world resolved,
to change the loving heart,
to maim the union that bore it's breast,
and burst upon the living land, would it rest?
Could it turn the torment of the distance,
For even one second into something other than what it is?
Love, incalculable, incorruptible love,
the fire in our veins, the molten core of desolation!
When all the walls we stoutly built,
between the object and our doubt,
have finally been erected,
do you still believe they will stand?
That they could ever have forestalled this Titans roar!
this fury! What hubris! the proud mind,
useless before the foments fiery breach,
a fools fortress on the soil of some foreign land!
Even proud Apollo,
luminescent upon his bright ray of dawn,
could not forestall loves glory.
Though he build a universe to divide it,
still the weft and the warp measure the weave!
Even He! of such empyreal majesty,
bows before the cherubs wing.
What then of we? Mortal beings!
Who vainly believe we control our destiny!
What hubris destroys the tower?
The triumphant hour,
when every brick is smashed before the great amour,
crashed upon the floor.
And for what?
Our choice is but to lament,
or in humility, all resistance spent,
sing! Surrender! Sweet Surrender!
Surrender, the vulnerable truth,
the tender mercy of mortal youth!
Surrender, or fall...
the fateful choice of lovers, all.
© Richard Michael Parker 2014
Artwork: Artist Unknown
Posted by RMP at 21:31