A boy went brave deep in a cave (a poem!)

My first try at writing a poem in English. Strong inspiration is 
needed for such a feat! :-)  

By the way, I also composed some music for it!

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"If you don't succeed the first time, call it version 1.0
and release it anyway." 

This is version 1.0 of this poem. Many sections still need 
better wording. My English vocabulary is too limited to find
rhyming words for everything! Ideas for improvement are 
welcome. Send them to the Author Feedback Forum,  or to 
pandrews12@yahoo.com.

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In deep a cave
==============


                by Il Musico


In silent night, deep under ground,
a glaring light its object found.
It lit his grace.-  Now coming near,
it lit his face, so pale from fear! 

Oh yes, the boy did want it, 
as much as anything.
But now, so close to get it, 
courage was wearing thin.
For centuries they used
to do this to his kin.
He knew, if he refused,
no longer could he sing.

The shirt came off, so did the pants.
The boy went on, with trembling hands,
removing now his underwear,
his mind awash in endless fear.

He had so long prepared
himself for this event.
With many friends had shared
his dream to nature bend.
But they had him deserted.-
The fear of pain and blood
had too much force exerted 
on their so childish mood.

The naked boy stood waiting, shy.
The man invited him to lie
on this hard table, made from stone.
He look'd so fragile... so alone!  

The stone felt cold and daring.
Was life to be that way?
Devoid of love and caring?
Just sing, eat, shit, and pray?
Philosophy had rosen,
so close now to the knife.
But he had freely chosen
that special kind of life.

The slender lad, just twelve years old
lay shivering from fear and cold
on that hard stone, sweat in his face.
His heart was beating fastest pace.

"Why did I silly dreamer
decide to get this done?"
Despair was growing larger.
Courage was fully gone. 
He thought of getting out here
But now t'was much too late.
His previous lack of all fear,
had sealed long his fate.

The boy sat up, about to run.
The man it saw. This was no fun.
And quickly he did strap a leg
of the poor boy to his hard bed!
 
His foot in straps now tied,
there was no way to run!
The boy lay back and tried
to see the eery fun:
Here was he, deep down under
in this old murky grave,
deserted, helpless, naked,         
 - and trying to be brave...!

The man secur'd the other leg
to the'other side of this hard bed,
and also strapp'd aside the knee
exposing what he needs to see.

The strappings made it easier
to bear the heavy load.
There was no use in struggling.
He was now on the road.
Somehow it made him happy:
The end of this long wait.
He even now did want it,
but still he was afraid.

With tender care the man now took
the boy's left hand, and with a loop 
he tie'd it down, quite up the bed.-
The right hand then.- A tear was shed. 

The boy could now not move much.
He was too thightly bound.
But thoughts cannot be bound such!
They roamed free around:
Just how much would this hurt him?
He wondered in fear.
Would all that pain be worthwhile?
Too much for him to bear?

The man knelt down, he lit a match,
a fire crackled, smoke did hatch.
He needed heat for safety.
To cauterize. Sterility.

The friendly fire raised 
the lad's so somber mood.
Deep in his thoughts he praised
that light, that smell so good.
He knew, it would soon burn him,
but somehow that was fine!
No pain could ever turn him
away from singing high!

The knife was hot, the iron red,
The time had come. The stony bed
was carrying a trembling boy.
It was too clear: This was no joy!

"My heart! Don't race so madly!
I cannot stand it long!
I need relief so badly
from this enormous song! -
Good bye, my fledgling manhood,
promising many joys!
Your time is now just seconds!
Get off! Leave me my voice!"

The man now grabb'd the doomed pair.
He thought a moment "it's not fair
to cut them off such nice a lad!"
But choice he had not. It was sad.  

"My heart has stopped pumping!
I will now surely die!
On lips and tongue I'm biting.
Can I avoid to cry? - 
What is this man now waiting,
to do the fateful cut? - 
Is this fear never ending?" - 
He kept his mouth well shut.

The knife now came, a rapid cut!
A chilling scream! A lot of blood!
The iron follow'd, quick and deep.
It stopp'd the blood, but not the shriek!

"Oh Lord, let me scream louder,
this isn't yet enough!
how can your test on singing
be so enorm'ly tough?!
This pain is far exceeding
the worst I ever knew!
My body is just bleeding;
my soul is sore as few!" 

Poor boy, he was so straight and proud.
Now he is crying, long and loud.
Let cry him, for deep in this cave
from stranger's ears we are quite safe.

He never will forget this day.
He entered the cave so gay
and happy of his sacrifice.
He left in pain, but smooth and nice.

For life he will be singing high,
make men enjoy, make women cry,
through his clear voice, so heavenly,
so full of charm, exceedingly.


Who said the life of any boy
is always filled up with joy?
In real life, a real lad
is sometimes happy, often sad.


         THE END

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While I have written a number of poems in other languages
(and about other matters! :-) ), this is my first attempt 
ever at English poetry. I hope to get some help to clean
up those parts that still need it, so I can someday 
upload version 2.0 to the EA!