I Enlist Thee

Poem — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #1

“Thinkest thou this earth a pleasure grove for wanderings,
A lilly filled pool for lazy dreaming lovers to wade in,
All the fierce labour of the sun and the stars
To light an ignorant brow and warm a petulant breath,
A playfield for the wayward, a holiday field for souls that tire?
Nay, nay, behold this muddy bowl propped in space,
This cauldron I have conceived to brew fiery fate,
Lit by meteor flames and mixed with catalyst of stardust
And stirred by avenging hands of the furies;
Behold O soul, the wrath of my passion,
The vehemence of my relentless mercies;
I come in the march of the mercenaries,
I ordain the tombstones of heroes,
From cries of the fallen, from the gurgling last breath,
From hearts that hope has forsaken
I gather the ballast of future’s foundation.
Rise then O soul, gather now the wayward will,
Let us meet the first murmurs of dawn
That spills its early vermillion on the horizon,
Rise O battler, for war beckons,
We shall seed calamity in cell and bone
And wrest all fields for our spoils,
We shall teach matter in ways of the lightnings
And tutor the body with the force of thunder,
Speech we shall transmute to accomplishing will
And mould all thoughts into monuments for eternity.
Bold shall be our gambles and to ignorance merciless,
Rise then O battler, for I enlist thee in the battle for the ages.”