No Moses am I
Pan finally awakens as the buds of spring burst;
Though too late to save our sweet warrior being cursed?
I sit perched on the edge of a mountain;
On the ruins of safety once clung to for life.
Rip at my cords and claim my fame
As they tug at my will to resist.
All fear we must swallow
To meet the Hag of Hope’s Hollow!
There’s a doorway where I lay;
What lies beyond, I cannot say
The social butterfly,
The lover the son the friend; pretend.
The more blood that you leech,
Brings more power in reach.
Must I live out my grey –
Every bleak human day.
In Mary he trust; for the children, he must
Just keep his head down, don’t make a fuss.