Have I grown rusty?

When was the last time I wrote?

I cannot remember… Has my mind gone musty?

Doth my syntax face extinction?

And my prosody decay?

Do I fear being forgotten?

Will my Legacy remain?


I’ve been out too long, can I weather this endearing storm of change?

The times are daunting can I make it through this phase?

I fear for my myriad of ideas, will they ever see the light of day?

Will I follow through, or will fear cause me to hide these insights again?


These questions plague my soul,

Who inquires what must not be known?

I retreat into the solitude – my mind – the only solace I know,

Let the world go on,

While the essence of my soul outgrows this fear,

Let my thoughts seek the depths of these unclear waters that now flood my mind,

And when I find these answers I seek,

When fear becomes a choice I side-step with a cinch,

When I stand over myself, lauding my defeat,

And the torment of the flesh is transcended by the purity of thought…

This war would have been well fought,

The fortress of my mind duly restored…

And this Renaissance Man… Truly Re-Born…