Mock

Patrons of passion, travellers with lust

Mock me all you want, heckle if you must

Adjourn your daily obligations to insult my being

Abandon a part of your conscience if you don’t like what you’re seeing

I may not have hurt your morals, or your principles I never did offend

But mockery is often without reason, simply a trend

I may have impressed you or unapologetically suppressed you

But you choose to mock me, not duel with this villian you once called a friend.

We have a long way to go, your life and mine

Though I worry about your survival; it’s hard without a spine

But I’m certain your end will be simply divine

I may even celebrate with a grand feast while I wash it down with some wine

But what if you were who could’ve been beside me

Held my hand and shared my worries, and yours, confide in me

What if you would’ve but chosen a life without this mockery

We could’ve made a true team, magical without sorcery.

Unchanged remains this though, that our past was once glorious

A time where people swarmed together in numbers mysterious

As they felt the presence of this passion you love so much

As they felt drawn to devotional treasures, in others, no mistrust.

But who am I to say, I have mocked one too many in my day

And soon I will be on my way to a divine decay

But then, I hope somebody will feast, or have a drink to me at least

Or best I be forgotten to be another mocking beast.