Two Natures One Force

A stealthy tongue overrules
Every deed that's done
Your works are your own funeral pyre
So let the fires come-
To set to testing what is said
To disregard the waste
Molding from a pile of bones
A Botticelli face,
That Grecian urns could envy
That Egyptian gold could hate
That Indian gems would shun in hope
Their powers don't seem chaste
In figure you could master
Leonardo's lines
And Michelangelo's lofty strokes
Would seem as paupers shrines
Your mouth could be Shekeniah
The glorious Divine
That spoke the light into the world
In some ancient time
Yet inwardly the virus
Of duplicity
Battles against deeds and words
Your wicked pedantry
That never quite contends
To meet its own virtues
Your words would save the fallen world
You deeds would prove untrue
You frame the argument
With Jeffersonian skill
With the wit of Oscar Wilde
And Napoleons' will
Dying seems so easy
In your fearless hands
Your words would send me heaven straight-
Your deeds would have me damned.