The chorus, silenced,
Spins and weaves behind the veil,
Their lines switched at the last hour:
Triumphant return ends in dolour.
How to bring a hero home
In a cortège of thwarted hopes?
How, in all honesty, does pride bend to truth,
When promise drags a disadvantaged youth?
Try as they may, they uncover no blame.
Released are the sensitive levers of shame.
If fault be found,
Gods only will answer.
Rather than speak out of turn,
Feet muddy the shore, pace and churn,
As invisible arm sweeps unworthy along.
Heaven forbid mortals pronounce in song,
When the Judge-of-All has spoken,
Respects paid the only token.
Weep not, uncomprehending;
Pray vouch ill-fated sending.
YOU ARE READING
Express, baggage and all...
PoetryObjects in the mirror are closer than they appear... Just when you think you've put something behind you for good, you look back and find it trails you like your very own comet's tail, lighting a path through the dark. Reading through these pages...
