(no subject)

[toujours_nigel]

I stand in the shadow

Of giants’ mausoleums.

Had my parents been my children—

My children’s children, or theirs—

The tale would have fit better.

But I stand—grovel—

In the shadows of greater times;

And my own is so stripped

Of all all men think great,

That cowardice is wise

And valour condemned

As great folly. I, who sleep,

In the long shadows of old deeds,

Of great goodness and evil,

Have only shabby actions

That yet seem theatrical,

And poor speeches tinged,

With something of hysteria.

The shadows loom above me,
And I go mute on my way.