Sword

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember those who opened, let
you in and begged for one last song to sing,
who thought a mercy prayer would convince
to have a pardon granted by this prince

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember those who weren’t in
but uninvited, still got lifted by your wing,
who while preparing for a glorious flight
were grounded brutally, take off denied

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember those who welcomed
you as royalists their banished king
who after years of fruitless fight
eventually got their heart’s delight

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember all, praise the Almighty,
challenge your sword with mine then swing
so that my blade will testify that it is I
who at the doors riposted to your passing by

painting: Ferdinand Vercnocke, ‘Mars’, Oil on canvas, 100x80cm
top img = wooden handmade sword, present to my 2nd son by his friend

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