The sword of Damocles

The sword of Damocles 

 

What joy can you have from the horn of plenty ? 

The sweetest grapes taste bitter 

Againist wraths fortitude 

 

 

Be careful what you wish for 

For the sword hangs  over you

By the barest tread 

 

When times are good 

You think  not in this way 

All seemed right with the world 

you  make your merry way in it 

 

At least you kept your steps light

Yet not in fear to waken a plague 

As such only fools believe in 

The natural world holds terror enough 

With resort to supposition 

 

 

The sword hung up then over you 

Unseen to the casual observer 

your troubles still not mounted 

And could easily be kept at bay 

But we all wish for more than the world 

Willingly offers 

To swap places with the king is tempting 

Who’s righteous was brought to question ? 

Is the question for the ages 

 

 

The wilderness knows no bounds 

Nor does the deepest void of the ocean 

Such places fill the weary traveller with dread 

Those who are not cautious 

Become cautionary tales

So best to be prepared 

Yet civilisation can throw up stiffer tests 

 

serpents take the form of man 

And enter the places of civility 

Where they have no place to be 

To trouble those as weary as any traveler along life’s tiresome journey 

 

Jealousy is this kind of sickness 

Which perverts the natural character of man

In the soul is born this ailment 

Which is not wholly within one’s character 

But rather a dancing plague 

 

 

An infection jumping from host to host 

Spreading ill will 

breaking down the natural order 

Until all is chaos 

Old friends point at one another 

Tongues spreading dissent 

In the mad Ecstasy of indifference or paranoia 

 

The death of hope 

Which dies without  a meaning 

As the soul can bear much which has clear intent but little in the grid of induced poverty 

Which spins the wheel of fate 

Until none can make alliance 

 

 

Assassination has killed many a king 

small and ugly men

For whom the thought of murder is not foul

They have the passion of the knife 

But not the courage to use it 

And so seek other ways such as poison 

As sure a killer as any sword 

far easier to hide the proof

His truly is the fate of  Damocles