so many roads
and so many paths
I have sampled
the life of the laborer
the way of the scholar
the mantle of the leader
and the sackcloth of the pariah
in my short years
though I find my hands weathered
and sinews hardened
by the art of the pen
by the way of the blade
and the steps of the spire
all my knowledge and
all my might
avails me not.
for all my wits
and all my vaunted strengths
I stand here
lost
helpless
and alone