Perhaps

O, how the mighty among me,
Have fallen again,
Perhaps to never rise,
Perhaps better if he dies,
Rather than be maimed for life,
By the slice of shame’s knife.
Perhaps better to curl up and seek,
The death that comes to the weak.
Perhaps better to never climb again,
To try to surpass the heights of men.
Perhaps should just yield up the ghost,
And all the host,
Of spirits that plague this man,
Perhaps in hell he can,
Receive his just reward,
For failing his Lord.
Perhaps there when bent,
Under the onerous punishment,
He might succeed at something,
Even if it is but receiving the sting,
That is deaths touch,
But even as such,
Perhaps it would be best,
For him and all the rest,
That would be left behind,
If he were to follow this mind.
But perhaps not,
Perhaps life is not yet wrought,
And he can still strive again,
Against himself and sin,
And perhaps this time not again fail,
And thus derail,
The train of progress he must ride,
If he is to ever to be counted on the side,
Of He who has all might, the right,
The Holy King of Light.