The man and his myth are never the same
Most have lives filled with labor and shame
While the myth is beyond all that we measure
Incomparable persona a self seeking treasure

The deed and the legend are light years removed
Described many times over though none have been proved
To be all that we think nor can they be relegated
To a realm of unknowable dictums to victims’ impregnated

By heroes and villains cut from the same mold
Different directions I think we’ve been told
About times long ago when monsters pursued us
Seeking safe passage from the demons that scare us

The king and his jester are not what we think
A scene in the courtyard disappearing in the blink
Of an eye for fine treasures of silver and gold
Bestowed by sycophants of the story told

The myth of the man is enshrouded in doubt
His handlers afraid he’ll soon be found out
To be less than presented for public consumption
A phantom, a lying specter without any gumption

To take the difficult path to the end of the line
King makers and noblemen tell us he’s fine
Believe and be saved all you skeptics out there
Question our motives and doubt if you dare

Copyright © Jim Ganley, All rights reserved

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