why

molten lead 

into the ears.

is it death 

one fears

or life, that 

never comes.

my dear

 how will you know

if you never leave,

that you don't want to return

-the house of your father

and your mind:

your customs and reflexes.

get out more often 

to visit friends 

and enemies.

at least,

walk the streets.

which one?

 It is the heart

and courage -that pierce,

not the spears -they rust.

truth

is
what we all know,
some are aware,
few say and
almost none live.

When pushed as though
it is trumpets sounding,
instead of a drunkard
reli-ving himself;

You wonder of the banqueters,
and what they are thinking.
You get lost -if not pass out-
in the music played to such fine ears
-by the minstrel.

Call it a night and say:
dim the light -for now-