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LordJereth -> A Question Of Worth (5/19/2004 12:14:41 PM)
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A Question Of Worth.
There is a place deep inside that wonders at the strength of her.
There is a side that stares agog in awe at her depth of being.
All soft curves and gentle spirit.
All submissive and giving.
All woman.
How can I deem myself worthy of this exquisite gift?
I am no great man of wit, wisdom, strength or even steadfastness.
I am no better in any way than the next man.
In an age of might makes right I am no more a right than a left.
Yet she chose me to bestow apon - this orb of light and fire that is her heart.
A thing of gentle perfection and fragile beauty.
...and here I stand, grasping it as a drowning man to the offered point of a sword.
all nerveless fingers and fumbling intentions.
The only true and unshakable strength I posess is my enduring love for her.
She has given her gift to one such as I.
A great and humbling experience in it's magnitude.
I am her tower of strength and yet, and yet...
She has the power to help me rebuild and regroup when I crumble...
So I ask myself, what have I done to deserve this boon of treasure?
Have I the where-with-all to ever understand?
She calls me Master and I heed to that nominclature.
I would do anything for her.
I would move mountains to keep her path smooth
I would challenge heaven and/or hell and their vaulted heads to protect her...
... and happily invade either realm to retrieve her if needed.
I would even kneel before her if it would keep her from harm.
And in all this asking naught but her devotion in return.
Like a beautiful captive bird she sits on my gauntleted hand and awaits my command.
And I revell in her flight and rejoice in the posession of her.
My pleasure is her reality and her beauty is at my disposal.
She learns the lessons I have to teach without question or complaint.
She takes to wing at my behest and completes the myriad tasks I set before her with joy in her breast.
She could easily be free and yet...
She always choses to return swiftly to my confining and sometimes ungraceful embrace.
So you might ask yourself, as I often have, who belongs to whome?
"The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind..."
...and when you ask yourself these things, you too must come to the only logical conclusion:
In the face of the evidence,
Does it matter so?
Poetry copyright©2002 by Lord_Jereth
[8D] LJ
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