The Poet dilettante, pretty words,
—not much else

Your world falls apart, head buried,
  darkness felt

Shangi-la’s luxury, your dreams
  can’t afford

Rome’s pillars under siege, strong words
   must accord

Through hundreds of millenia what has been
  learned

“Freedom is won by blood when all cowardice
  spurned”

Unwilling to fight the enemies fire
  with fire

Your good intentions to burn,
  —your ashes bemired

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)