2016 12 18
Were they to place that gold crown on my head
I would descend the tower of howling wind
and throw the ring of gold in flowing stream
where blood of honest men glows in sunlight
for that hollow crown chains my soul with dread.
Though holy men in red robes proclaimed me
bold representative of God on Earth
I shake with horror as men with sharp swords
surround me in the tower of weeping girls
for that hollow crown weighs my head with fear.
I am no God endowed with divine wisdom
who sits like shining sun in clouds of glory
since I am but mortal man made from dust
who gasps for breath as I flee in dark storm
for that hollow crown blinds my eyes with pride.
I would strip these robes embroidered with gold
to expose my bare soul to howling wind
and dance on verdant heath where shepherds play
rather than play war games with brutal men
for that hollow crown bends my mind with dreams.