three nights ago
under a fading moon
sailed my friend and his mentor
‘why are we here?’
inquired my friend
‘to talk and to hear’
smiled the mentor, asking
‘how are you?’
‘hollow, sir
i read, none the more wiser
i talk, to no one’s gain
i know
no small thrills
no little joys
no tiny fears
fond of others,
not loving
logical and sharp,
i cut others to size
i wake up
to sleep
i sleep
hoping not to wake up
i understand
without sympathy
i understand
without pathos
i follow
refusing to lead
i proclaim
unwilling to be told
i am the king
of all that i command
yet i command little
but for two shoes
and a vest’
so despaired,
so despaired
my friend.
the mentor,
grave as the night
responded
‘how we wonder about death
in our curious years,
obsessing over its mysteries,
asking how is it everyone,
every one of us
faces death whenever
it dawns?
yet age and time
readies you for it,
for what is not
a man like you,
if not dying?
my friend,
you
no longer
have the romance
in your heart
the spark that lights
your day
has faded
and so has the life
within your soul
a man devoid of romance
is a man dead, my friend’
