What, oh, is man, when inspired,
the truth upon him transpired.
The world has seen some true-blue gems,
walk its length-breadth with passion immense.
Shackled in flesh and bone, they are.
In their time, understood, never.
Defiant, adamant, stubborn, they strive;
inundated in romance, widened by pride.
When such few men do come to be,
the world finds in the mirror, falsity.
Offended, insulted, defied beyond belief,
men seek vengeance for profanity.
There have been men, there will be men,
walk miles did one, on foot, for a cause,
another did hang, laughing throughout,
going down fighting, enemies they rout.
Slaughtered in their present, revered in future,
subtly, slowly, the world they conquer.
Their ideas go while their bodies rot.
Captivate one's limbs, but how to chain one's thought?
These men cease to be mere animals,
not only do they live, change they incur.
And hence, to emphasize on, I'm never tired,
What, oh, is man, when inspired!
-B.M.
