Knight of Swords … so very few words,
Standing watch … witnessing humiliation and shame,
Picking up shards of shattered self esteem … secret wisdoms,
Smiling knowingly … yellow feathers at the corner of his mouth,
Believing that he possesses salvaged treasure,
Something precious beyond value,
Misjudged … continually taken for granted.
So strong … so fragile … so volatile,
Explosive eruptions with little or no warning,
Tripped wires on booby traps below consciousness,
Pursued by shades of Paranoiac Reality,
Engulfed in pyroclastic flows of endocrine excreta,
Rampaging waist deep through insipid mediocrity,
Nauseated by the stench of institutionalised apathy.
Charging forth … honour bound,
Proud … virile … mother’s son,
Impetuous youth transformed by the rigors of time,
Strength of character … abiding loyalty,
Earning respect through righteous actions,
Acknowledging the difference between right and wrong.
True to his word … A Fine Young Man.
To stake Claim to this un-mined seam,
Gemstones … if cut and polished … would shine as bright,
Blinding … sparkling … powerful … hypnotic,
Metamorphosed into impenetrable perfection,
Defiant endurance … throughout years of torturous pressure,
Patiently awaiting an appreciative catalyst,
Facilitating the emergence of underlying brilliance.