To succumb as did Socrates,
poisoned by hypocrisies,
and disregarded philosophies,
must I make peace with my mediocrities?
Am I enslaved to Euripedes,
a servant to Sophocles,
a traveler in tragedies,
fated to a future of futility?
Or like the ill-conceived bumble bee,
a waxy-winged Icarus cast into the sea,
or the golden-tongued Demosthenes,
will truth forever my guiding sun be?