And so with gusto, the man wept ar the life he had lost in the process of
Pursuing a life to live.
He heaved the failures of man through his think mind
Trying to ascertain a fault.
Yet in amongst his reflection, the law of his own found no trespass,
No wrongdoing.
He had walked the road he had paved for himself.
The room was dark and the night long, but sleep would not relieve him.
As shadows danced, he stared to nothing, having his eyes form images to
deceive him.
He sat upright from his hopèd slumber;
He was an amalgamation of all that preceded
and it disturbed him.
The truth he lacks was that behind the alien prospect of humility;
an egotistical balance.
Thriving off of one's strengths acknowledged
And forgoing all else for the chance of learning.
This road he had paved accounted for the ignorant belief
That his reasoning was best informed;
That his experience found all else to be within the reach of his own reasoning.
And so we watch the man and his age-coddled ego
And take lesson from he who may not.
For in his stunted prowess, and assumed all-knowing,
The ironic mind could conceive all but that of misdirection.
The man will sit, confident in day but cursed by night;
Leading a gilded life tainted.