In rage I bellow at the elements by which I am proscribed
I spit in the face of the inevitables and unmovables
I rant, rave and curse the invisibles that mock my pain
And I puff in puerile futility at the internal inferno that consumes me
In relief I embrace the kisses of the morning
I revel in accomplishments old & new
I rediscover old forgotten consorts
And accept life’s gifts with grudging acknowledgment
In sadness, I ponder missed opportunities
And consider unremarkable chapters of an incidental past
I wonder, is joy to be found in deep reflection and intellectual pursuits?
And peace within the regimented life of a disciple?
Does happiness accompany self-correction & self-righteousness?
Is laughter friend to resolute will and determination?
I think not
For surely laughter is for fools
And levity for the simple and childlike
They bear no burdens, ask nothing and understand little
Troubling not fate, they are seldom tasked by Life
Reaching for nothing; gaining naught
Existing; failing to live
Plodding in soldierly fashion; constituting the plebeian rank & file
Little wonder then at my desperate flight, reach & aspiration
The profligate spending of soul and sweat currency
My bold Archillean quest for immortality
And my liberal use of the crimson ink of legacy
For I reach for glory, remembrance & permanence
And ruthlessly disown my twin brothers of fear and uncertainty