The Suitor

There was one man who dared to stand, stand in awe of you. Se the splendour, see the pain, the pain you shall render. Life’s fingers grope, the are in eternal hope, that he’ll know what to do.

Then comes the crushing blow, hitting ever so slow, stopping the mind’s last plea. Hear him shout, see him turn about, he’ll shout for all eternity

And so another suiter shall pass, will one ever last, and not pass into history? Even so, this we know, your final blow, saves suitors from a doom of misery.

Hear now the tale told of one man who was so bold, as he stood in the gilded halls. He perished alone, in sight of a throne, for it’s the fate of man. How hear this, oh Queen of Bliss, the pain shall return again.

So on that day, as you leave your ways, recall the man, the only man, who dared to stand, stand in awe of a Queen.

Think of this and dwell on that, that which might have been. If the man had reached out, and without a doubt, taken a hold of a throne, for then your eternity shall not be spent alone