Persons

Does the peril of a life so perfect Squander unwept tears? Does the shiny saucer of a world Call the horrid fear? If I disclose a million-fold The welcome do they serve-- I swear the rugged tundra Lies beneath a twin-bridged stream. So open do I say, I lift you herald high. Does one who's undeserved Flow gently without flight? Does it matter here what genre I portray? Does it matter then again That I've lost my square on life? How many times will it take till I see What my maker wants of me? How many writings will I send Till I meet my calling, please?