A Question then my beloved friend to when does one first pretend
that defeat is the only answer ,
and to what cost to learned brow defend ?

Now and how it comes at such a cost ,
how daunting to the soul of man to be Victorius in all we say ,
think and do .

What is Victory then I ask ?
A final push over English lines to the sound of Bread of Heavens
heavenly rhymes ?
To look on high to an Eagles cry and wonder why your eating bird seed and you can't fly and cluck cluck s the coolest song in town ?

Or some Medievil battle cry ' all must die ' waving sword on high blood and honor to the King ?

". Oh God is it possible " swooned into Herashios loving arm
In Mertons meadows after two years all at sea ,
Oh God is it possible " Lady Hamiltons cry in Victory of the Nile
did fling herself in Napels harbour .
Then Rule Britania the band played on ,
to Trafalgars cruel fate .



Or is it one more pull ,
One last rep ,
One more curl until fibres spent ?

One piece of cake without the guilt to share on Bulimic bums and minds .

One step from hospital bed ,
to lift a finger ,
to give flight from your last dying breath .

To smile take heart at scolding tongue ?





Never to reach for that bottle when all you need is a drink ,
to pour it down the sink .
To never reach for a needle , a vain , ?
For in a soldiers might his bedside call ,
With book of love and head bowed low awaits his masters call .