My Fate, Their Gamble

Even if I need not cry, my pains must not go
Unheard by those who my progress would want to slow
I’ve amassed my strength and would like to fly sky-high
Far above foxes and kites thinking themselves sly.
My shadow must not only be left in the clouds
But cover them to mystify just like the shroud

Holding in it a secret to the world of men
So hidden to turn its life all amazement
Birds ply the skies, the eagle above all reign
Wherein the jungle only the lion pulls the rein
And would not on the same table dine with lame dogs
Among men herding flocks with big support from thugs

Thugs who would beat me to crying my pain aloud
Such pains I must not cry but make heard and be proud
Brut force fails where admittance of liability
Would have readily bred freedom and liberty
For all those like me refusing this wild trampling
Which always leaves heads and thugs with my fate gambling

Unlike the birds of the sky, topsy-turvydom
Is the catch word and in which jungle? No kingdom!
No kingdom for the lion priding itself the King
In the mist of such confusion a bush was king
Too blind ruling over the oil wells of the east
With the impunity of an absolute beast

James 1 would rule this world in demonology
And bring the beast and himself up to some deities
Theeing and thouing as par great nature;
This ploy to bring down the mighty, sure
Would make him greater than great in the eyes
Of those before whom about me he lies.