For My Believers

by Grayswandir

Like the laughter of the muses,

Light but strained with long abuses,

Playing petty knaves and deuces

At your tables with your wine,

Dance the voices I've befriended,

Though my plots are all intended

To arrange your laughter ended

For utopias of mine.

You adore me in my dreaming,

You accompany my scheming

To avenge illusions seeming

Any moment sure to fall,

Yet your praise rings always hollow,

For you call to me "Apollo,"

And I see it's me you follow,

Not fair Patria at all.

Is there one among you drinking

Whose bright, careless eyes unblinking

Can discern this statue sinking?

Can you see it brings me pain

To divest you of tomorrow,

From your very blood to borrow;

Can you comprehend my sorrow

Raising hopes as cruel as Cain?

Can it be that I deceive you,

Play misleading chords you'll cleave to?

And must my belief bereave you

Of what once I held so dear

That the merest thought of choosing

Between leaving it and losing

My whole soul was so confusing

That I face it still with fear?

Yet be Patria mistaken?

Nay; hence let my life be taken,

And let France anew awaken

And forget all grief and shame.

Let no memory remind her

Of the bloodstains left behind her;

Let no more this darkness bind her.

Free our hearts and clear her name.

Till that moment may these tables,

Stained with ink and wine and fables,

Frame the laughter that enables

Men to throw their souls to chance

May you carve me out of sungold

For my fears are better untold;

Soon enough our fates will unfold.

Till then, let me watch you dance.