Ere the dawn broke all was right
Beholding gleaming perfect light
But reaching up I fell down
Bitter fruit, forfeit crown.
He came and I the bitter fool
Hiding, lying, rebel ghoul.
Turned and blamed my precious gift
Widening our growing deadly rift.
He cursed the land and all my labor
But before He placed that blocking saber
He made a promise certain and sure
To be for our deaths the potent cure.
Though I am but rebellion and dust
In that promise I place my trust.
Beautiful and beautiful reminder.
Thank you my love, and my poet warrior.