the truth

what they will believe in one age
will change with the next
the flesh is ever filled with another

the writer all cynical and lost finds the truth
stares into it's cold dead eyes
they offer no cogent reason
to leave the dance of the drunken moment
and follow them
into their misery

still he knows
he will not be a defeated father
does not walk away
and leave truth
orphaned from mind
dyng ignoble
on the farside of the universes

he knows his
greif will be unblunted
even by the glory of resurrections

this time he is no socrates
slipping away smiling
content he has lived his rules
and will fight another day

no
this time he IS A GLADIATOR
STANDING
UNVANQuishable
in the arena
LIONS AT HIS SIDE

he raises his sword to the people in SALUTE
takes his bow and heads off to a party with his buds