Glory

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  LIFE SONGS

Glory

 

Glory is a fickle lover

She belongs to those who claim her

Yet she belongs to no one

 

We dedicate our younger lives

To winning the ultimate prize

Rising above all others

As if our happiness depended

On another’s sorrow

 

We take hold of the winner’s trophy

That proclaims our ultimate greatness

Only to watch it all dissolve

Like crumbling ash in the wind

 

Glory lifts us to the highest peaks

Demands the world’s attention

Declares a singular superiority

Surrounds us with servile sycophants

Delivers a divinity of pleasures

And builds our egos into

Impenetrable fortresses

Before leaving us abandoned

And alone

 

Glory is a fickle lover whose

Greatest gifts are endless tears

Of sorrow and remorse