You can’t bury my intrepidity; you grave diggers(!); I will never bury the hatchet!: A poem

I can talk like I can talk for days on end,

yet most of the time, I am as silent as a hillock

listening to the noises of the winds around it

and the surrounding valleys that sing along in silence, like troubadours

who lay stake to the mythic reality of true heroes! I am not a

Pharisee, but I have answered to the shrink’s

question, and I have abounded in praise of myself;

not wondering in doubt, not wandering away from the points of

my inviolate self and the violence placed against me!

They can say many things about me. I am intrepid.

A mountain that never collapses into the sinkhole of

predicament that my powerful detractors waylay me

with. I am not only brave with words, but brave in deed

And despite my prolonged duty to humanity, I am

sub juris, not troppo. I am not a necropolis fallen to

marauding treachery! Death is not me, in the sanctity of my

eternal wayfaring for the sake of redemption of one and all.

I have never been a sinecurist; in fact, I am the real sin shifter, not the

bewitching Church that claims for itself! And so, I live eternally! Can

you hear the drumbeats of my timelessness drawing near to the

men and the evil that they do, if they have a conscience! I have not

succumbed; so, I will die of such mutiny, that righteousness survives the

onslaught, the slaughtermen. I am ingrained in the right against evil,

and I know  how some righteousness disguises itself as bad, to do justice to my cause!

And I know the evil that seeks redemption from my magic wand;

the mendacity of which will never get my condonance, no matter

the overwhelming treachery. I know righteous from evil! No

matter who thinks they can bury my intrepidity and integrity by defrauding me, I will never

bury the hatchet!!!! The loudspeaker of my soul is silently radio-bursted for eternity!