Heroism

A life is lived to probe the depths of mind,

Explore the soul, add books to history's shelf,

I left my home in hopes of finding self,

But truth be told, I'm yet unsatisfied.

I long to be a hero of the ages,

Have songs sung of me by philosophes and sages,

But lust for fame sows only seeds of sorrow,

Ne'er reaped, e'er empty promises filled tomorrow,

Try as I might, I may not ever find,

The truth I've sought and fear I've left behind,

But true beauty lies in talents undivined,

And heroism is not a trait defined,

It's seeking freedom in face of space confined,

So all sails set, I vow to make it mine.

To surrender to the gods may nobler be,

But I've observed the lives of our nobility,

They're void of truth, filled with futility,

Averse to fun, lack creativity,

Feign hope while knowing they cannot set us free,

From life's radiant cycle of volatility,

And they crumble, abject, heartless, willingly.

So though my quest may ever be unending,

I'll now waste no time in shadows or pretending,

I may never know the sweet burden of wealth,

But humbly I proclaim to love myself,

And wisdom is not proof of being best,

But disregarding slander from the rest.

To some, my chosen path may seem quite strange,

Unconventional at best, at worst deranged,

A hero of the world I may not be,

But I'll fight to death to have the world know me.

And this I know is human's greatest folly,

But I take solace in remaining jolly,

I know not my path and certainly not my fate,

But I keep walking 'cause I never learned to wait,

And while so many ahead of me have failed,

There are those souls who against all odds prevailed,

I read their poems and fill with true delight,

And so for future poets, I now write.

May it please the court, I've proudly lost my way,

And hear this world: you'll read the sordid tale some day.