Heavens!

Whose angelic bodies sing
Eternal in service
To supremacy

Whose chains of light confine
The awful creatures’ existence
To knees

What shallow merit in good
To be condemned to
Servitude perpetual

And yet,
Here we are

This world a frightful Eden
It’s laws unbroken binding
Their exception paradise
For fools

Heironymus!

What say you of our garden
For whose earthly delights
We do tread shallow waters
Longing for release

What say you of these new-built cages
Steel and glass spires rending
Views of heavens for multitudes
Of scuffling creatures

The fertile forest lain flat to mound
Smoldering bile skyward

What say you, Heironymus?

And Marcus!

What say you of the rampant plague
Indifference
Of stoic nature not hard fought
But fostered from the womb

A generation’s tethered dreams
Of vain glory
Seldom pursued

Whose very tools of liberation
Themselves became
Their ties

What say you, Marcus?

And Plato!

What say you of the shadows
We have cast from whose dancing
In the flickering light
We have grown to know
Bemusement

Would you call that virtue
Justice which has stole
Away our vessels

Where would you have
A soul migrate
Which, lost, knows only

I

A vagrant - a lion?
A king - a sheep?
A beggar - a lion?
A soldier - a sheep?
A doctor - a lion?
A priest - a sheep?

What say you, Plato?