|
| |
Integrity
I said no word when silence burned my tongue,
The truth within me sang, though none had heard;
I kept it close, a lark with silver lung,
And fed it not with fear, but with a word
They came with garlands twined in flattery’s thread,
Their hands all sweet with bribes and sugared lies—
But I had seen the stars go cold and dead,
And still believed in light behind the skies.
There is a stillness deeper than retreat,
A quiet strength that does not cry or bend;
It walks alone on frost-enchanted street
And counts no loss except a broken end.
I wore no crown but dared to stand apart,
The winds were sharp, but I kept clean my heart.
Let others feast on praise, on gold, on guile—
I’ll keep my soul, and walk the longer mile.
For truth is flame, and I its willing spark.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
|
|