Willow Walk

this tale we know

no meaning in the noise just empty rage

but meaning in the numbers we can read

a lamentation for the passing age

so much is noted in the angry deed

not one second of silence they concede

although rough bone on bone will harshly grate

they won't surrender to the ones they hate

 

so little of our temper they can gauge

and not a portion of our urgent need

that forces us to deepest loudest rage

at sight of all their  joyful hateful greed

the product of the nature of their breed

they name this glory and call this their state

they won't surrender to the ones they hate

 

with such an enemy we can't engage

without an understanding of their creed

more than the lying words upon the page

we cannot trust the man riding the steed

who tells us that like us he has to bleed

and though their pain like ours can become great

they won't surrender to the ones they hate 

 

they will not quit their places on the stage

nor pay our anger any sort of heed

for that we know slow death's the only wage

and harsh uprooting as with any weed

justice we know we never could exceed

since though we tell our story plain and straight

they won't surrender to the ones they hate

in the swamps

across the solitudes a single moan

passes and we are locked into the plight

of one far distant who is not alone

although that pain is hidden from our sight

nothing is done by you in our despite

at invocation we will light the blaze

we see again the colder harder days

 

you know the value of a simple stone

and how to make it shed a little light

that will convert to something hardly known

to those who claim to be straight and forthright

our task is not to hasten nor excite

but to take you most swiftly through the maze

we see again the colder harder days

 

we know the colour of the human bone

and how to polish it and turn it bright

as instrument to punish and atone

plain cure for darkness and the coming blight

this product of the sacrificial height

must be exposed unto the divine gaze

we see again the colder harder days

 

hopes and desires are wholly overblown

what is to come will never give us right

nor any justice since the truth is flown

out of the window into the cold night

and what is left is not for our delight

no one would want to give us love or praise

we see again the colder harder days

early in the morning

those who find ways to strangle their own hope

are not the kings whose purpose we must praise

their only journey is down the last slope

we want nothing to do with their lost ways

our choice instead is with the morning blaze

the light that comes before the flaming sun

the star whose meaning we can never shun

 

we pay out many lengths of this rough rope

and wait for what seem endless sets of days

it is our task simply to wait and cope

with all the matters within normal gaze

we aren't rewarded with any bouquets

nor can we see no matter where we run

the star whose meaning we can never shun

 

we are not cleansed with any weight of soap

nor hampered by the endless laws delays

if we can't walk our enemies can't lope

and the wise donkey it is that now brays

truths that the coming god is he who slays

all that deny him and what's well begun

the star whose meaning we can never shun

 

we have the choice to abstain or to tope

stand still or dance in these complex ballets

be silent or announce the modern trope

knowing that the one who speaks first betrays

all that he is and these are no clichés

so much is said but nothing has been done

the star whose meaning we can never shun

sage admonition

so much of who we are comes down to pain

we choose to fear our thoughts and not to rest

when all we have to do is just abstain

from acting and let others do their best

to show their zeal and justify their zest

our hearts belong to the soft flute and lyre

and all we do is temper your desire

 

your choice is simple come in from the rain

and leave to others now the daily test

some things should be as obvious and plain

as if they had by others been confessed

but you would move at their not our behest

to raise your voice in that abysmal choir

and all we do is temper your desire

 

you don't expect to go against the grain

without some price being instantly assessed

life is not life without some darkling bane

upon your body at some time being pressed

you do not hold such things close to your breast

but flee at once from indications dire

and all we do is temper your desire

 

to act with thought will bring you greater gain

than thoughtless action you would soon detest

that should be obvious and not arcane

this is no time for foolishness or jest

as better folk than you can well attest

you have to show your worth to any buyer

and all we do is temper your desire