The Bard’s Sword

The Bard’s Sword
by Jonas Hyde

The Bard’s Sword is a follow-up piece to the Seraph’s Song

-I-

Its been days and more,
since I penned the Seraph’s Song,
and journey far I have in days since,
in search of truth forgotten,
carrying my bard’s sword.

For all my life long,
I have known the Tempter Prince,
creator of sin misbegotten,
‘til with Sera I explored,
sacrifice so grand.

A ballad evinced,
I wept from crimes so rotten,
not of placid ignorance o’ Lord,
so penance you should demand,
of I knelt ‘fore you.

My charmed life so oft’,
I strived only for reward,
be it woman’s soul or sire’s land,
I used my pen to accrue,
heat from hearth and thighs.

Tho’ by own accord,
in truth I now know firsthand,
by cause of her sacrifice so true,
sinful life I must revise,
‘else nothing was learned.

-II-

Now with visage turned,
virtue born from darkened sin,
as wine from water or gold from lead,
my alchemist’s soul breathes free,
echoing rebirth.

How long has it been,
since I heard the words He said,
spoken to her tho’ received by me,
offering eternal worth,
in exchange for self.

So to truth I wed,
with sword of quill, ink, and He,
to right the wrongs of my Tempter’s mirth,
that came from within myself,
hoping for salvation.

My soul is the fee,
which is ripe with Tempter’s dearth,
so I must put such sins on the shelf,
give up the adulation,
and stead strive for hope.

Hope for all on earth,
may my plight remind oneself,
life without regard breeds damnation,
a truism without scope,
so please heed these words.

You can save yourself,
by soul’s capitulation,
hang thy sin from a carpenter’s rope,
and pledge your soul into thirds,
to dad, son, and ghost.

Avoid temptation,
and learn by fire to cope,
so you can fly with angels and birds,
which is what I long for most,
but shalln’t ever see.

-III-

These thoughts came to me,
too little too late it seems,
tho’ I pray He learns of my new course,
and as with Sera I’m saved,
from the Tempter’s hold.

Tho’ my silent screams,
echo words which I oft’ force,
I traded my quill for life depraved,
sacrificing soul I sold,
for words that enchant.

Ignoring remorse,
led to choices misbehaved,
but it was these truths I learned twofold,
He offers what Tempter cant,
and sin is not free.

So now I’m enslaved,
in the wings of Tempter’s fold,
hoping for gifts only He can grant,
salvation offered to me,
in the guise of chance.

Can I be so bold,
as to plead such a porous rant,
can one see the truth I speak to thee,
or do my words ‘stead entrance,
cloaking horrid truth?

The answers are scant,
verity for you to see,
to find meaning in the Tempter’s dance,
playing now a moral sleuth,
a role I had failed.

I wanted to flee,
but was absorbed in His glance,
regardless of manner so uncouth,
virtue o’er sin prevailed,
bringing me to point.

I survived this dance,
started early in my youth,
in ways I have otherwise detailed,
so I dare not disappoint,
time to start anew.

Now long in the tooth,
with sinful exploits curtailed,
it is not Tempter I now anoint,
for he I long bid adieu,
in favour of Him.

-IV-
As if told by Grimm,
there is far more I could say,
but with brevity I must now speak,
else my points will all be lost,
ne’er to be ‘stood.

So I plead and pray,
my future will not be bleak,
for in truth I have not paid the cost,
not like Sera had withstood,
I surely have not.

She stood at the peak,
and it was then our stars crossed,
and this bard who long misunderstood,
last learned what Tempter forgot,
‘bout self, life, and time.

So now I accost,
those who heed not as they should,
with this skill my wicked soul has bought,
the subtle proof of my crime,
words lasting fore’er.

For bad or for good,
will my efforts lead to naught,
just He knows the answer to that rhyme,
so I ne’er shall say ne’er,
and tempt outcome ill.

The battle she fought,
is so unlike my own climb,
her clash was a valiant endeavour,
a result of His own will,
whereas I’m alone.

Lone and past my prime,
No longer acting clever,
my soul does humility now fill,
and for much I must atone,
with glorious deed.

-V-

This now truly leads,
to a question I must ask,
if ones words speak softer than action,
then which shall find more favour,
her sword or my pen?

For it is my task,
to offer satisfaction,
and in my ain war ne’er waver,
proving once and then again,
I am now reformed.

Avoid distraction,
and let my soul be braver,
than in the past so possibly then,
my ending can be transformed,
from darkness to light.

And then my savior,
I shall whisper soft amen,
and when my final act is performed,
I shall whisper a goodnight,
signaling the end.

So you among men,
have now been duly informed,
by my Bard’s Sword of my wretched plight,
and my soul I shall defend,
in this Tempter’s war.

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