At last uncast, that cherished tome, my fears were quite unfounded
Iconoclast, I offer stone, and keep with friends surrounded
Why tarry more – to tend your fear, that rules be torn apart?
‘Forevermore’ that phrase so dear, could quench a beating heart.
No freedom this, but shocking shame: beginning of the end
Conducted thus, in spite of name, without intent to rend.
So we decided, at great length, to face the path we chose
Conserving our remaining strength: no more could we oppose
The force – the might of circumstance -there’s no way to deny
We never had a fighting chance – there’s no one reason why
From start wer’t doomed, regrettably: the circumstances just
Did us in, but hopefully soon we’ll thrive; we’ll live…we must!
Today’s prompt was to write a ‘Fourteener’ – a poem with as many lines as I liked
but each line in possession of 14 syllables and iambic pentameter
(this last section, clearly, not part of that)