The pools of eyes; like tears of a sea,
the virtue of dreams. Morals in the
pursuit of laurels.

Even with the strength of Hercules,
still weakened as only being human; in part.
In solitude of dark thought—a deathless
night, looms like a menace of juvenile desire.
Lust and confusion, a drudgery of chasing eyes.
Such a defiance of love: Clinginess of flesh wanting
flesh—vexations of our once selves.

We've all been young.

Nurture maturity, to teach those behind early,
for their grapes to be full in seasonal vines.

Teach 'em as due course,
as 'verly so, you've once been taught.
As a given,
an open hand of the gift of handing
down wisdom.