This tall knight in
dark and shiny armor.
Handsome, strong -
intelligent.
Maybe a bit too
vain and
self-indulged.
He would do good,
he would have all -
but he got lost in
fourth and fifth
dimensions.
I met him again after
several years;
sitting in the backyard,
talking for hours on
present and
old days.
He intertwined the
gods, the universe and
pagan cults
into a transparent visual,
describing his position
within and
the confusion it
sometimes brought
upon him.
His double personalities,
the voices -
the common madness of
not being understood.
The psychiatric wards and
tranquillizers to keep his
agony somehow
tolerable.
To suffer in a world
between divine clarity and
single room despair -
in the best years
of his life.
And of course
there were the women -
heartaches from
delusional love,
with friends and foes
trading places.
How does one keep
sane -
in a society that is
not willing?
So after all
there’s so little to
go back to;
the gaps that
can’t be filled,
the scattered friendships that
didn’t hold on.
The noble volunteer,
always in for
a good cause.
He’ll always be a
fighter -
one of the
mythical kind.
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