“The Servant Grief”

I stood soothe and bequeath,
But I was sighing and scant of breath,
Upon standing in front of empery,
Thus sanity whispered to my own self,
“Do I have mistake…”
While eminence writ me for something I had done,
“thou’d wrong deeds – is prohibited” as they said,
According to enchiridion that ‘em made…
And – so the writ has begun and spontaneously proceeds,
Consciously my quintessence cast – and…
Remembering my master – “sayeth”;
Here! Come my servant,
Doth for what I telleth,
Obey as what I commandeth,
I am a master and thou my servant,
Aye! Here I am, my response,
I doth for what thee want,
I follow as what thou said,
For I am servant and hath my master,
I obliged underneath,
As I stanch for my deeds,
I pursued thy order,
But I can’t plea my distress,
I built thine castle,
And I erect my berth as for my chantey,
I pilled dost food, purvey thy needs,
I stored my own, as I heap nothing,
Dost dandy of fop,
A dude of mine – not prim,
Thy plenty of gold,
I’ve abound work;
I long wooed beseech my glory,
………….my suits thy denied;
Instead! Charge me mischief;
And now…
The grandeur of thy fury,
The defeat of my fate;
…”Unconscionable”…
... And that was the grief of my soul…