The Birth

I may not be the most comely of breeds, but I’m a fetching lead,

I wasn’t born into any privilege or edge,

I was groomed by father to slog in the line of persistent and patience

To husk, get a disk, and take some risk

I was groomed by my mother in the bare and balmy hands of care,

Who taught me in the ways of lord, and word

To build my home around a heart, and fight for what is the hearth

I was groomed by my grandfather

Not to be chagrined of my scars, nor mask ’em around the scarfs

I was groomed by my grandmother

To be a warrior, in a whole armour of fervour,

To fight for what I cherish, and flee from what can perish

I’m thrust to featly

I was taught in the way of loyalty and royalty,

I was taught the tongues of strength and breath

I was taught the heart of peace, and lease

I was taught to be beautiful

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