No more odes to a rusted pedestal
No more games for a weary gladiator
Here, I make my stand
Here, I drop the pretense and the armor
Put down the shield and the sword
Relinquish the pen and the paper
“We are not perfect, no
We are fallen.
From and of the dust
And given only a short time before we return.
Take my hand
Let us try to love one another
Let us try to be kind
Let us try.”
I am waiting
And you, you are–