Thomas Heard Poetry (A Ballade of Tradition)

A Ballade of Tradition

Dancing a waltz, dancers concealed
Through a room of blind-deaf-mutes
To whom dancers must not reveal
Full as they taste of crimson fruit
And touch their strings to solve disputes
Alliance new each night begun
Taking freely of tributes-
And never more to touch the sun.

As city spreads like starry night
With sleepless rush and manic beat
Once a fief o'erseen by knight
Governed best by wise elite
Keeping ever safe each street
Most from hungers better shunned
All feeling for city's heartbeat-
And never more to feel the sun.

Soft pull the veil from child's eyes
Escort them to the dance
Keep them close to best advise
Lest error fall, by sad mischance,
And they mistake some sirin's glance,
And caught, like deer in light frozen
To follow thence, all time entranced
And never more to miss the sun.

And then comes pain, all cost doubled
Heavy falls the master’s lash.
And thus is blameless sire troubled
For crimes severe of child rash.
And all saved in secret cache
Until the student’s time is done
They’ll suffer twice from teacher’s gnash.
And never suffering the sun.

A guest arrives, like storm-tossed soul
Thrown naked to the shore.
Eager they to pay the toll
To enter through the gate-kept door
And rightful status to restore-
Lest turned away, unwelcome, shun
Those pests we all abhor
And never welcoming the sun.

And this, the first and final law:
Not for foe, not for friend
Not for I to judge the cause
Save when called to final end
Then we all the hunt attend
Just punishment, never undone
And blood extract, the price of sin
Then leave to them the cleansing sun

Ah Prince, with heavy crown on brow
Who guards us each with due caution
As all here gather deeply bow-
Never more to see the sun.

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