In a Year That Wants More War

In a Year that Wants More War

I will walk into the winter,
In my cape of flowing black,
With the blowing icy splinter,
Covering my crooked back.

I will meet the coming barrage,
With my face in steely poise,
All the swirling snow a mirage,
Squally wind an awful noise.

I will trust the saints above me,
In their seat at heaven’s court,
Sending rays of love to woo me,
Even in the blackness caught.

I will tame the hail and weather,
With a will in hellfire forged,
Traipsing lonely through the never,
Then by hell at last disgorged.

I will walk with even paces,
Into land of blackest pitch,
Only seeking meagre graces,
To uphold me and enrich.

Even with the canon blasting,
In a year that wants more war,
I am deathless, everlasting,
Sent from heaven’s holy shore.

For I tame the whirlwind gyring,
In the fury of the sky,
I will conquer what’s transpiring,
With mine fist and steely eye.

ADL