in no home garden

a moment more and we shall pierce the murk
to find ourselves so far from well-known shore
yet all we have for safety is our work

in harsher hand we have to fear the dirk
that comes at last to stab each to the core
a moment more and we shall pierce the murk

not one of us who force would dare to shirk
others at times might utter a loud snore
yet all we have for safety is our work

these are strange climes and we could go berserk
if asked what lies beyond the golden door
a moment more and we shall pierce the murk

it is not fair to see you nod and smirk
since we alone have added to your store
yet all we have for safety is our work

only a fool would think it an odd quirk
that at the end we stoop to keeping score
a moment more and we shall pierce the murk
yet all we have for safety is our work

also in the game

a little more and we'll withstand a gale
so much of what we are depends on spite
the world exists and we can't get it right
no one believes our truth or hears our tale
it would lead lesser folk to scream and wail
throwing their bodies into the hard night
our duty though is to remain forthright
no soul must ever think that we could fail
glory belongs to those who play the game
of open teasing when the sun is high
knowing that they are watched by many eyes
but we prefer the ones whose feet are lame
who operate beneath a darker sky
and never think to win the golden prize

this is our tale

a sort of secret in this open yard
what is best hidden cannot be said plain
but may be whispered when the window's barred
so many stories of that concealed stain
of all the ones who went against the grain
and let the rope and leather simply fall
the beast escape from the well-guarded stall
matters like these are not beyond surmise
words might be spoken at noon in the hall
the winner is not he who gains the prize

you do not see the sign upon the card
that might be said to mark the loss or gain
of those who need to earn your good regard
the ones who speak know you will not remain
once all the symbols cease to be arcane
for what is sugar may one day be gall
that which now pleases must swiftly appall
if you aren't told that we should now advise
you must not let these foolish ways enthral
the winner is not he who gains the prize

an honest purpose may be easy marred
by those who want to tighten up the chain
and laugh and you the silly avant-garde
who seek the pleasure and forget the pain
that comes on later you cannot abstain
from taking part in the far larger brawl
that is expected when you hear the call
of the strange forces that reshape the skies
and come upon us like a sudden squall
the winner is not he who gains the prize

prince we are here for quite the longest haul
and ready for the struggle great or small
we may seem paltry to your noble eyes
but we will make it though we have to crawl
the winner is not he who claims the prize