thirty one

No mortals these that of earthly treasures want
but supplicants all through poverty and fellowship,
humbly begun long before greed dared them recant;
All those who would seek that place of common worship
they rode their lives to spend, prepared to protect
that holy place so all men could witness angels weep;
Still stand they for that duty most perfect,
demanding succour to all fellows they beseech.
Upon this skin etched deep in black ink is her name
between seals of courage and which carries no blame,
my love of her, now commanded silent, forever proclaims.

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