His sublime beauty had my eyes blind
No villain HE was, but an ageless knave
One would not notice HIM in the most prosaic mosaic
‘ But I, or did HE notice me
‘ HE spoke this archaic language.
To me.
‘ My ears did not understand,
But my soul wept.
As if awoken from slumber,
As if my spirit craved HIS words in hunger
Everyone else did not see HIM,
What HE saw in me.
‘ A pariah was HE
But I chose to call HIM your Majesty
I hoped and wished and prayed that HE would forgive me
Everyone else did not see and thought that I was going crazy
But still I followed HIM and prayed that HE would grant me amnesty’hellip;
And I still follow HIM,
It is no longer a clandestine truth
‘ I am HIS and HE is mine, in this life, HE is my everlasting roof
