Master Poem by Rebekah O'Donley

Doth thou hate mine painted soul?
Wilt thou refuse thy quivering arrow?
Canst thou daunt the morrow of seven?
Didst thou dream of embers aflame?
Master, thou art as the man with no shadow
Thou art a fallen star bled into one malicious tear
Thou ridest upon the night and caresseth the yester
O'Master thou art most gruesome and cruel
Thine altar of beryl perpetually drips manys innocently shed blood
Yet, canst thou smell fear? Canst thou taste sorrow?
Canst thou feel love, canst thou murmur lust?
Nay, for ye cannot unfold thine own cowardice