|A darkened room,|
|with one small candle,|
|A slight stirring of silk.|
whisper of steel.
|I gently pull them off the wall|
|The softness of the cloth|
|in one hand,|
|The coldness of metal in the other|
|at once beckons|
|The transformation begins.|
|What is this thing I am doing?|
|Who am I to judge?|
|Why this journey into danger?|
it take me?
|I am easing the pain of my people,|
|my friends, my neighbors.|
|Judging? No! Never!|
|That belongs to God.|
|I am only
|The only danger is complacency.|
|Let me die fighting it if need be.|
|But let me live to see justice,|
peace, if I can.
|The brocade is laying across a chair.|
|The fancy leather boots next to it.|
|The sword of my conscience is at my side.|
|The mask feels soft|
as I place it over my face.
|Give me wisdom this night as I ride.|
|Grant me temperance against enemies I fight.|
|Let the world be better tomorrow|