Eight Lost Souls

Poemata 31

In purple cape the Knight has said 
  whose shield is strong and sure
The world is darkness, faith is dead, 
  I alone abjure
Until that time when steel on steel 
  can the crown restore
I save the weak, for this is real
  now and evermore.

In azure shroud the Spy has walked
  unseen with sharpened knife 
So many souls I now have stalked
  and counted ev'ry life
But sweetness won where iron failed
  and charm where secrets fell
But heard their voices when they wailed
  from the depths of hell.

In cloak of black the Hunter spoke
  whose spear in blood is dipped
With arrows sharp the beast I broke
  with knife its skin I stripped
Living free means drawing blood
  To live enslaved to death
I seek no harm, but in the flood
  Life is naught but breath.

In kirtle green the Healer cried
  And struck her staff in grief
If I had spoke instead of sighed
  If I had sought relief
Then I would have what I desired
  And they would still have pain
To heal alone my love inspired
  To bear and bring the same.

Clad in gold the Duelist proud
  To enemies declared
I drive you out with thunder loud
  You ought now to be scared
For driving first I come with blade
  And cut you down as grass
In victory my troth is made
  As ever in my past.

In coat of red the Spark made fast
  The sash upon her waist
When I had the truth at last
  That Truth I truly faced
To know is beauty, splendor, might
  That the truth is one
Must I now sleep light at night
  - always with my gun?

In tenne-color vest the Smith 
  Had little left to say;
In all things he found the pith
  In his quiet way
Strength was his, greater than
  Ever he could show
Strike the iron, what he began
  Would in fire grow.

The Dancer drest in robe of white
  Had this much to say:
To be the best in someone's sight
  Is to see another day
Living is a dance whose cast
  The finest but prevail
Even they will trip at last
  All must fin'ly fail.