English Poem–Brass, not Gold

I tried making myself to be a footstool for your soft feet, my King, and revel in that divine touch.

I put myself in the crucible of problems and incinerated myself on the fire of failures and hardships.

I molded myself to be fit for your service.

But what we are talking about! Diamonds are not studded in brass and it is gold that shines brilliantly after it is subjected to that metallurgic process.

Gold plating will not do the trick for me.

But of course, you are hailed as the touchstone: You can change, make, unmake, remake, and everything—but that depends upon you and not on me.

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