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.