It is the measure of the man
not the inveterate man of the measure
who without substance finds solace in posturing
and delights in undermining the glories hard won
by distinction and excellence by those with real courage

What befits the false warriors without essential probity
who takes refuge lies, smears fabrication and dastardly deeds
and wears a face of many sides each a disgrace to honor and truths
then declares in cowardice supreme I claim the value of ascension
while all and all sees their hollow columns and towers of embers

Is probity in tallness of men or the hearts that beats within
or the large carriages summoned on the never-never enslaved
Is worth of virtue and light seen in the draining snares of serpents
or the fellowship of a thousands lost sheep coerced by duplicity
a platform of harmonious unity or the assiduous guise of chicanery

It is the measure of the man
not the inveterate man of the measure
it is he that talks as it means and means as he talks, with honor
the steady and profound essence of the triumph of mind, body soul
the rock that stands the ravages of the unclean ghouls and smiles
and rides in fire and brimstone's unscathed, the edifying realness
It is the measure of the man