the brave and the constantly dying

 
 
 
let the phonies, the possers,
the preening peacocks,
the fawning sycophants  
 
be lost in the dense
fog of their own
mediocrity
 
let them think you  
arrogant
 
it is only a symptom
of how small they  
see themselves
 
they do not know what
it is like to have even  
one bright night in  
a universe of darkness
 
as opposed to the
wretchedness of
never striking a
match to a candle
out of fear of failure
 
the coward seeks the
shelter of the familiar,
the acceptable, the
bourgeois  
 
the brave know,
 
there is no shelter  
 
it is better to go
out like a super-
nova
 
a lone knight, sword
and shield in hand,
defending honor
against a murderous,
barbaric horde
 
the last dinosaur
drawing last  
breath as  
the sun
sets
 
live