Promise

Be not the Raging Sword 

   that slayeth me,

But the kind soul 

   that releases me.

Promise me

   you will fail to be

That Raging Sword 

   that slayeth me. 

Be not the drifting storm who’s 

   clouds are seeking mayhem, 

But the passing breeze 

   who flows onwards. 

Promise me 

   you will try to be

That passing breeze 

   drifting. 

Be not the Nosey Groundhog 

   who is drawn to the light, 

But the peaceful farm mouse

   who stays out of sight. 

Promise me 

   you will fail to be 

Striding towards

   the light. 

Be not the Angry Brushes 

   who scratch and tear at prey

But the Easy Trees 

   who sway. 

Promise me 

   you will try to be 

As easy 

   just to sway. 

So please, 

   try to be

The Kind Soul and 

   the Passing Breeze. 

Try to, 

   stay out the light

And easily sway.

   Promise me you will try.