The Mighty One Poem by Robert Toews

The east goes far beyond my soul
as twelve white horses fled
had they only known my woe
of rising from the dead
but luck is not my friend today
and I can't see ahead
my only hope lies in my way
as twelve white horses bled

have you not seen the waves of wrath
and felt the wind and rain
my friend I stand upon your path
of misery and pain
don't go until I find for you
a mistress to remain
to wipe your brow and gently sooth
your open wounds again

they never stood up tall for me
I said this all as tho it seemed
that the summer never was as sweet
as baby's breath and starlights gleam
my son, do not dispair
for now tis but a dream
and if you will treat your lady fair
your joy shall be redeemed

I wrote the book on fashion
then turned and walked away
but the downpour of your passion
will surely find its way
for no one knows the lonely nights
I've spent behind the fray
and it has left my heart in fright,
my life in utter disarray

behold my iron armor
to me the most attractive thing
to see you stand in glamour
and hide me 'neath your sprawling wing
I never knew how dear you were
till I heard my heart begin to sing
when I touched your glossy midnight fur
and saw you stand before the king

so do not shutter in the dark
believe in who you have become
make fires out of little sparks
and play the harp when others drum
boast unto me because you are
a prince they call 'the mighty one'
go find your treasure in the stars
and close your eyes when angels strum.