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The Lie

Tonight you press against me
and I recall the time I defended your honor,
when you spoke not a word yourself
for yourself.
I, and only agent I,
speaking from the rage of countless indignations and for the cause of all innocents,
thundered with the inborn power of nature.

And, after the storm,
still, you spoke not a word.

My arrow fell true.
Your accuser stunned,
mouth hanging agape,
no words left to berate --
Only the poignant question
"What's it to you?"
And by my answer, thus learned --
That You are not property.
You are a man.

This thing I did not do
to earn respect
for myself or you.
We have earned that well, dear friend.
This thing I did not do
to teach those unteachable
nor to admonish the arrogant,
only to silence
the noise of the LIE
in the hush of astonished TRUTH!

It may be a small victory
to overturn malicious lie.
Yet it is, I swear,
the most glorious of triumphs for me.
For when one who wields a wicked sword
is brought down by the humble stone of truth,
and when this aggressor, thus disabled,
loses his head
to his own sword of malice,
I cannot help but note,
that the crowd, uncoached, cheers.

It is the stuff of plays and dreams,
the drama of life,
the glory of triumph,
good over evil.
Dah daht dah
Dah daht dah!

But tonight from distant past,
so long and most fatefully cast,
you spoke in my receptive ear.
Had you just called me friend
I would have been honored such word to hear.
But, aye,
Much more was mine.
Your words so pure and sweet
are evermore mine to keep.

"My Love...
My Comrade...
I am not hungry, dear
I just came to watch you eat."

And Oh! My Love!
How we did dine!















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