Let not my knees nor my eyes yeild

Let not my knees nor my eyes yeild to the fullness or weight of this tapestry which wraps and twists around my every feature gesture or word, this tapestry which binds my existence to create a cohesive structured seed to plant in time inside a willing and open mind with something so simple as a word to nourish the passing of a single moment in time.

Let not my knees nor my eyes yeild to summer days filled with light and flowery garments draped from my innocence and held together by simple thread where that thread may be severed by an innocence so evenly matched.

Let not my knees nor my eyes yeild to moments I hold within my heart so dear to me through past endeavour which nourish me so deeply as to restore my beleif when all else seems to be clouded by the victorious chants of those who would oppress me so gallantly without thought of malice or contempt for the future they would hold in such disregard and self prevailing vanity.

Let not my knees nor my eyes yeild, as I rise above the vallies and clouds to be held once again by the sweet grace of heaven where deeds both humble and vein are counted and my tapestry be weighed and paid.