A readied pen
On empty pages
Writes the lives
Of countless faces

Of rich and poor
The small and great
The pen takes note
Of each one’s fate

Their peals of laughter
And tears they shed
All words spoken
And thoughts unsaid

It is sad that the lives
Of us and our neighbors
Will become nothing more
Than some ink on paper

I don’t understand
Why I get so violently angry
When I see my reflection

Fiery tongues
Mysterious places
I pray my lord finds it
Within his good graces
To spare him the rod
And sever the tongue
No longer will truth
From this mouth be wrung
Of this matter here
Will he no longer shout
Nor speak, nor whisper
To people of doubt
We would steal his power
His talent to sway
And then turn the menfolk
To our cause today
And he will not speak
Of our place of no name
Here where we meet
And make men our game
Then when victory is nigh
Bring him out for display
As the crowd cheers
Have him slain where he lay
This is the price
A man such as he faces
For a fiery tongue
In mysterious places

A Deathly chant spoken
Two fates interwoven
The only true token
Of love.
A deep understanding
A love that's abounding
Its touch as light
As a dove's.
Dreaded words spoken
A dream that's been broken
The love still whispers to me.
And when love is leaving
It taunts me by sitting
On its perch that's right beside me.

If one wished to hear a story
Of love and glory,
They need look no further
Than the tale of the Dame.
This Dame’s story, however,
Appears to have never
Been read. Yes,the Dame has been tucked
Solitarily
Into a corner of a shelf in an aisle of a
Library called Memory.
Temporarily
Momentarily
Permanently
Forgotten.
Yes, the tale will be told no more
Of her many suitors gathered ‘round the village well
Each thinking themselves to be a whale
Of a catch. And oh, how their faces fell
When the Dame denied each one their dowry, her peals of laughter ringing like a bell
As they turned their tails
And shuffled away.
They’ll never find a page of that.

One will never speak of the Dame’s great deeds.
How innumerable men, in time of need
Fell prostrate before her, their pathetic pleas
Receiving none of her sympathy.
She arrived with one purpose, that
Purpose being to combat
The mighty Dragon
Who, swaggerin’ and braggin’,
Challenged, “No man dare approach me!”
Her answer? “Only a woman.”
Laughed the Dragon, “Oh really?”
Said she, “God is with me!”
And then from out the sea rose lightning
And struck, blinding all who could see.
The Dragon, disappeared.
The people, freed.

Her power will not be remembered.
For the world turns even ash
Into cinders.