This is a poem spread across multiple pages. Please read in order. Please click on links below to read the earlier passages from the poem.
The Fool - I.
The Fool - II.
The Fool - III.
The Fool - IV.
The Fool - V.
The Fool - VI.
The Fool - VII.
The Fool - VIII.
The Fool - IX.
The Fool - X.
Can one dump a hero, who’s also in Love?
A Fool who suffers – who’s hand–in-glove
In making his own fate – in crafting his
fall
Who thinks that by failing, he’ll appear 6 feet’s
tall.
Someone masochistic- preferring Love’s sting
Over pleasures more carnal-over Solomon’s
ring
Neither wisdom he seeks nor the glory of
winning
But falls, trials, tribulations and mere satisfaction
of running
In the Quest that mattered, for Love that
was true
Even if it means being mocked on – and a
life that’s blue.
He finds solace in suffering, there is a
grace in falling hard
At least he’s not living a half life- he’s
giving all he’s got
And if all his love is not enough, to sail
him through this night
He may as well leave the quest for others; it’s
not a worthy fight.
Not worthy of him- not what he brings to
the table,
For its not the fool’s mission to win- he’s
equally able
To concede defeat- what he aims is a bit higher
To end the Quest for once and all- is his heart’s
desire
For he knows there will be others, who will
be equally moved
By the power of Love and eager to make one’s
life doomed
Becoming a part of the quest, that may not
be their own
But with each fools failing, more seeds are
sown;
Seeds of determination, to prove Love’s triumph
That there is value in suffering, courage
in mere trying.
To win is all that matters, to a person who
is wise
There are cost and benefits, and accordingly
one decides
Thank god our Fool is stupid, has a limited
vision and plan
And is determined on taking that first step-
and believes he can!
Not just belief in self- that he can endure
the fall
But also belief in others – that they’ll
imitate his fall
Oh fool, he thinks that everyone, is a fool
just like him
He’s so naïve he thinks it glorious, to get
hurt, on whim,
That his disgrace as he falls, and eventually
fails, is alright
People will be inspired by his fall- he won’t
stay awake at night
And be tormented by his failures- he’ll put
the jeers aside
He’ll deafen his ears to the mockery, and
jest will go by the side
When he rides his horse, he’ll be a proud knight
exemplar,
Not downcast eyes or a spirit, that is
broken or tempered
Oh fool, he believes in more than is
probably true-
He thinks by the end he’ll still be foolish
and a novice
And be insensitive to all the innuendos, no
regrets, no rue,
And no need to hide- but wont the journey makes
him wise?
The greatest challenge that our beloved Fool
faces
Is not that first step, nor last, nor the
million stages
That comprise his journey- the journey is
least on his mind
What haunts him – is not a matter of degree,
but that of kind
Not how much the journey will wear and tear
his soul
But whether he’ll be the same person- the
self, the whole
After the quest ends, will he still be a
fool
Feeling no resentment, on being used as a tool
To bring the grail to the king, to end the war,
He by his own will fought, so why these scar
Should haunt him at the end- but the one
haunted has changed
He’s wizened by the war and no longer
easily played
By emotions of Love to get involved in what’s
not true
Of how he’ll handle his new found wisdom he
has no clue.
He prefers to delude himself that he’ll not
be changed by the quest
To win he’ll not need to learn the ways and
vile of men, is a lie,
It’s not Victory or defeat per se- it’s the
nature of the quest
Whether you win, you lose, or it ends in a
tie,
By participating in it, you made a Faustian
deal,
In the end you lose your soul- the wounds won’t
heal.
It’s not what you are at the beginning; it’s
what you’ll be at the end
That is worth contemplating-and should make
your hairs stand
Whether it’s a future you agree to-
becoming wise and resentful
Or whether you continue living as of now-
ignorant and cheerful
Is a choice that the Fool has to make- but
can he foresee?
If he had the vision would we call him a
fool?
He is eager to take the first step is all
we can see
Either consciously or not, he is ready to
be a tool.
A tool that has a use only as far as the
quests last
And as soon as they end, we can leave him
with his past
Let him ruminate on a life, spent fallow
and waste
He should
have known otherwise- should have cultivated taste
And not got involved in quests out of foolishness
or haste
About his mental sanity and peace we can
only speculate
And hope that his sense of sacrifice lets him
bear the failures wounds
Not just shame, but feelings of sacrifice,
is the wisdom’s boon.
As a fool he never thought he was
sacrificing, nor was deterred by shame
And so he took those first steps and the
next ones, and the ones that were lame
But let’s thank wisdom that with it comes
packing –
An ego
feeling of having sacrificed
That justifies your living- though the desire
is lacking
A shameful existence- empty and devoid.
