I found this, going through some old files, hope you like it.
Mingled with verses,
Touched by the heart-threading prose,
I’ve heard your chants,
I’ve fallen over the worn lyrics once.
The fragility of each fiercely pinched in me,
Yet I wondered in distress,
Why have you come by troubadour of winter and fall?
Guilt has come to you,
As a rainfall in the sultry summer.
When you hiked away to praise
A new young emperor of a forgotten kingdom,
I stopped listening to the words
You once devotedly halted in behalf of a dream
Upon my feet.
Summon the grace of earthly forgiveness, troubadour!
Beg for what the divine grants, o’ silly troubadour!
I have passed by the world,
Yet far from the divine once and once more.
Don’t take that guitar of yours
Which killed long ago the idealistic hearts of a king and his love.
Roll up back your tongue
And take the prose of yours
To a knight and queen who rest in amity at last.