one day this ragged dream will end

history will determine whether any of it meant anything to anyone

the beaten hero faces his final curtain call

his blood spills out like the words from his pen

and did he ever succeed

reach the one he so desperately called out to

the only answer to that is

possibly

he fought legions of demons

both real and mental

swam through oceans of blood

waded through fields of entrails

all in the hope of catching the eye of love

and was it meant to be

all he ever heard

possibly

he climbed crumbling edifices of structurally unsound metaphysical resolve

braved the elemental inconsistency of nature versus nurture versus unnatural meaningless self deprivation

half lion half bear half ballistic missle half fable

all for the ideals he believed

and his final tally at the gates of hell

possibly

dramatically saving nothing from the jaws of uncompromising success

indentured servitude for the sake of solemn slaloms down ice swept crags of emotional disparaging

like an explorer with dyslexia

finding pisces instead of pieces when peace was his only gaol

not a typo, look it up

and in the end

instead of being assured a place in the pantheon

he was branded

possibly