the price is loneliness to be of individual mind
to lack being want of any of the same kind
left alone to suffer ridicule for suggestion to find
greater worth in Self, then to follow the blind
body defeating the universal clay-mould
defying to suffer the history of that being told
living truth to sought wisdom before being old
knowing strength from conflict with that being sold
eon’s history derives the same, repeated end
where individuals die for unknown others, asking to defend
the honor of the group collective that it survive to contend
perpetuating the myth: spilled blood, to humanity’s survival, it does lend.
naykdpoet 
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