Those, ordealed for true greatness, know this bitter Truth;
a Poet hath no friends and family; his house in the clouds
his lot both wormwood and vinegar, knowing angel from brute!
Don't seek this Love, for once in motion, like a juggernaut crude...
exceeds all limitations, goes for the throat like dark hounds!!
Make Silence and Solitude your maidens, gird your waist sound;
take Righteousness as a Shield and Justice as a Sword, be True--
Loose yourself and your name, in the heat of the moment, holyness;
even in church shield your heart and faith -- Angels can fall from Grace!
Forget your Pains remorse and exceed the beyond, break duress --
with your spear of Valor and the Armour of Faithful conviction confess!
There shall be none, who shall pass and be worthy of your embrace;
look, the orphans are your brothers and the widows your mothers -- Face
your fate and worship the battlefields, defending the gates dauntless!!
Man your fatigue, and laugh at tired and worry. Let the Battlerage fury;
keep quiet and sound in the heat of the moment, you, the left hand of God!
Those, ordealed for greatness, know to fall down and ascend anew, flurry
like the chaf in the wind merry and silent in its murky wake without a hurry...
There is no greater boon, than to die with honour, while accursed in hoards;
let them snuff your holy fire, it will rekindle in the multitudes implored!
Exceed the beyond, Holy Angel of Vengeance and Virtuous divine story!!
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