Many men do fear thee,
for we are naught but mortals.
We live in a world as transient beings,
and do naught but what He tells.
A friend of thine, her name is Love,
makes us forget all our fears.
In this illusion, we also forget
that thy arrival slowly nears.
As our loved ones leave us and go,
we curse thee and hate thee.
But, men who’re born must go someday;
This truth ne’er do we see.
His will is thy command;
Death is the only truth of life.
Mortals, ignorant and irrational,
weep, resist, and strive.
Some embrace thee; wise they are!
But, some men attempt to hide,
not realizing that t’is is where
thee await with arms open wide.
Thus I, a mere mortal,
helpless, can ne’er escape thee.
I will embrace His decision,
if so Death will set me free.
But I, a mere mortal,
irrational, fear thy will.
For thy arrival, not welcome,
leaves the most mighty to lay still.
Yet, thee must do as He wills;
Though I fear not for myself,
My dear ones are at thy mercy!
For I, a mortal, can’t challenge thyself.
When I received life’s breath
in a thriving garden I was born.
There was never a fear of death
for the roses had not one thorn.
In the image of my Creator was I
to have dominion over land and sky.
I’d consume all that met my eye.
Nothing was poison for me to die.
“This garden is your life.” Said He.
“And this tree has a fruit forbidden.”
The Gardener now smiled at me.
His knowledge to me was hidden.
“Eat it, anyway!” Said the Serpent.
“Why should anything be taboo?”
And I did not see reason to repent.
“He forbids to ensure that you do.”
I ate it anyway, for it was so sweet.
What’s eternity when I’m incomplete?
Why did the Chicken cross the road?
Was it the only trip he could afford?
Was he in denial of Universal Laws,
which forbid to cross without cause?
What if a black Cat crosses your path?
If you were smart, you’d do the math.
The Cat would then chase the Chicken.
You’d stop to watch, there and then!
You’d be so absorbed by this scene,
to forget you were on Street Thirteen!
Stepping back, you’d pass beneath a ladder,
and drop a mirror, to make you sadder.
Now, you’d turn back to see the Cat gone,
and the Chicken would’ve finally moved on!
A world so vibrant, hues galore;
anything intrigues the young.
A life of beauty, and splendour;
it matters not how it’s sung.
The little one sees a gigantic world
through eyes of endless wonder.
Tucked in his blanket, he’s curled,
whose peace naught shall hinder.
An innocent smile rests on his face,
as he wanders through sweet dreams.
A treasure you could never replace,
innocence is more than all it seems.
There is a glass half-empty
and an empty cup as well.
The first is but a pity
while the other rings a bell.
If I emptied my glass
when I approach the guild,
would I, as a seeker, pass,
or just keep it half-filled?
I’ve no excuse or apology
for my half-filled glass.
I don’t seek epiphany
save, ‘This too shall pass!’
Mímír’s Well has a drink
of endless wisdom, you see.
I’ll take one fill to the brink
if it takes an eye to be free.
Don’t beg in my neighborhood,
I’d rather you seek a job.
Begging is not something I would
because the economy it does rob.
Don’t beg on my street, my brother.
I don’t care for such vile deceit.
I care not about your false hunger.
Just get back on your strong feet!
Don’t just beg in front of me.
Take off those pointless shades.
I know that you can actually see.
But you watch as your youth fades.
Please ask me not for food.
I’d rather employ you today.
Begging is never that good.
Such men in history won’t stay.