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.