JohnFenwick

Chooser
Tis I Chosen.
How could I refute?
How could I run?
Yet it only seems right.
You saw fit that I should be Chosen.
Despite my longing for another’s 
I know tis mine.
I take it that I shouldn’t complain 
And instead embrace
But what man shall I be
If I do not question?
I only seek understanding, knowledge 
For my obligations.
I’m sure you’ve got some to spare.
Perhaps you require me to laze 
And convey unto you my dilemmas.
But how must a man know
If ye dare not give even the slightest of hints
Well,
Then so it is 
And so it shall be done.