To be of substance, of relative value, concerted as reliable fortune in
matters of concern to those whos pretenses follow shallow rivers to murky coves,
I relinquish my sword, my valor prevails in my dusty heels,
only the flapping linen of my shirttail answers the mad herd. I cannot be overtaken.
My stride is resourceful, calculated in millenniums of sonnets never penned.
The word of the world is not my concern, but rather, my compass.
I am aware of the fatal direction dictated by drunken sailors of sinking vessels,
Valhallo their journey’s destination. I’ll follow the Tempest, and never sway my course,
for it is justified, to believe. Doubt recoils from me. I am The Statue. – Sinz