Long having labored in a solemn art,

One that could never fully feed my soul;

Still as God’s servant I fair did my part

And in due measure proudly played my role.

I mentored to the lame, the sick, the blind

And with keen blade I fought their dragons well;

Though everyday I toiled with faith aligned,

Of what lay vanquished, I could seldom tell.

Though oft my passage lay in praise replete

I was still haunted by my failings there,

By demons dark that I could not defeat…

That skulked within to stir my soul’s despair.

The path we choose is rare of reasoned rhyme,

—Perhaps I will forgive myself in time.