The Jester

In victory there is always loss

And in defeat there is nothing but pain.

The poison coursing through a man’s veins,

Cheapens his sense of reality.

In pursuit of higher virtuous dreams,

The jester ultimately finds himself beaten,

With the stark truth that one man’s happiness is another’s pain.

The shimmering glint of valor has faded away,

While honesty lies naked, in search of a home.

The jester then, returns to his post,

Knowing only that cheap tricks satisfy,

And that he too shall die with a blackened soul.