For Lack of Better Wisdom.

A part two of "For the Love of Wisdom".

"I tried, Shepherds."

I confess to the Stoics.

Perhaps unsurprised to see

Me once again at their altar.

Their teachings had held

Me thus far in good health.

But I know I should have held

My fire, and perhaps my tongue.

This bullet came back around,

It ricocheted, curving like a missile

Springing my intuition into warning.

"I'm hit, I'm hit!" I cry again.

But this is no time to bleed out

My emotions in a shallow Trench.

My aid comes as a Holy Trinity,

Like troopers in white armour.

They and I all know I have more to do,

But perhaps have less to give.

"On your feet, soldier!

We are leaving!"