H

Doorways and arches
Medieval marches
To war! To war!
And we flee.
Crosses and torches
Or backyards and porches
The middle is soft
Who is he?
Thundering voices
Calamitous choices
A mind trapped in riddles
Can't see
Beyond petty sorrow
Finds trouble to borrow
Creating his nightmare
Is he.
His wreath without laurel
Believes no tomorrow
Can come in which
He'll be free.
The coward inside
Is caged by his pride
That he can defy
Destiny.
But still his desire
An undying fire
Can a man change
What he be?