It’s not like it matters,
No one will think twice.
These disposable efforts mean so much to us,
And, at times, we cherish them too.
Though the higher you climb,
The worse off most are,
For the toll, is indeed, a high one.

It’s not that you’ll fall,
(Though soon, you may welcome that),
But near what’s rumored to be the top,
You’ll find, you’re often alone.

So finding an average,
A cool medium,
Has become all but uncommon,
But even so, what’s to come,
Of those few who actually challenge the gods?
For what sort of blessings do lay still?

Far is it from Dubiety,
Though equally close,
We expect too much, and leave room for displeasure.
We bring it upon ourselves.
Then I had a thought, why the way of humans?
But why not the way of all life permitting?

How not someone revered could leave life unnoticed,
Yet someone exalted should be saved,
Truly leaves long trenches in the pit of my stomach,
Due to lacking a notion of why;
Why it is we strive so hard; And if for immortality,
Then for what sake and by who are we granted this perquisite?

What Blessings were laid on the lives of those,
Whose memory would outlast the Earth,
Really made worth of a mortal’s own time,
More so then any such swings of the hands?
For what even is our own worth?

As when his eyes fail to save him,
Upon what would that broken man fall?
Naught but more than his own disparity,
Wedged between black reality and his own thoughts.
Forlorn, despairing, and void of all sense,
He collapses, deader than dead.

I shudder to dismiss this, (or any) conflict,
Away as I would a cobweb;
But he who detects the flaws of himself
Before do his enemies,
Will end up much stronger than those opposed,
As he already severed his soul.