In between those various shades of grey,
Among those silky specters of dichotomy,
Around the path that renounces color,
Will you find your way?
Serenading a Silver Scarlet on St. Mary’s,
With a Vestige that keeps you on edge,
Amidst Fury, Fever and Floundering Glory,
Are you really still sane?
They say Ego is the Height of all parables,
They say Self-belief is Narcissus in his shambles,
They call upon their Gods and Goddesses,
To relieve themselves of their own senses,
How is this game even played?
If Arrogance and Glory really were talk of ambition,
Then why do Titans not prove themselves worthy of their ribbons,
If climbing the ladder got you flattered,
Why talk of rust,
Why talk of dust,
Why talk of sweeping away the rotting bust,
When laughing in the midst of damnation was all that ever mattered?
Now, Remember:
As time is but a passing glimpse in the eye of the Fire-ant,
As a toddler’s fist is softer than the brush of thistle and ale,
As vast as this Earth is being colored red,
As small as may seem the man with his hands folded under the shed,
Remember to be Humble.
As a monument is built with cinder, soot and sordid sweat,
Its Greatness is remembered not by its majestic mahogany,
But somewhere along it’s lines are the little details of intricate craftsmanship,
That can only be seen from within by the Person,
Only to be admired by the un-sequestered light of the universe,
In plant, pot and plasma.
This conquers the most important thing there is to be conquered –
Themselves.
Oh beseech!
Long gone is the sword of Alexander,
Long lost is the horse of Kublai,
Long rid has this Earth of Barbaric conquest,
She remembers not the Men that saw fit to take her as a Whore,
But she grows in her womb the People that see fit to take her as a Child.
Amidst the Truth, Lies and Truthful Lies,
Read between the lines,
The war outside your home is not outside,
It is in you.
Amidst the ramblings and fumbling of Egos and Alimonies,
See between the signs,
The wisdom lost because of this world’s rules is not their loss,
It is yours.
Amidst the competitions, glories and furrowed brows,
Hear between the lisps,
The battles lost in the disguise of small victories is not upto them to see,
It is upto you.
True ambition cannot be achieved,
If not for Faithful Veneration.
Shed away the lies, the flies, the dusty scribes,
Make reason and rationale your allies.
What is that is worth the fight?
What is that decides right is might?
An Iron-born in an ever-festering swamp?
Or the dewdrop that makes the sun shine twice as bright?
On the worst of days, on the brightest of nights,
Learn that learning is the Utopian Right,
Learn from your enemy,
Learn from your master,
Learn from your mother,
Learn from your benefactor,
Learn from your chapter,
Learn when they say you deserve to be ripped to shreds,
Learn when they cry after you clean their blood-infested beds,
Learn when you find yourself with all against none,
Learn when they take your Truth high up to Kingdom Come,
Learn, I beseech, with a folded hand,
Learn from thy mirror.
Because true Glory lies not in contradictions of opposite faith,
But in letting those roots hold you deep onto your spirit,
So let the stale stagnant fester,
Dip those drops of blood in the line of a transitive vector,
And within your own Sun you will find the Warmth to fend off Winter’s light,
Vidi, Vici, Veni starts with a look in the eye.
Amen.
