The Scholar

I do not deny your intellect
It is a knife that carves
That cleanses, that purifies
You shunned aristocracy
In favour of the grandiosity
of academia. You embraced
Profundity. You are feted,
Lauded, praised and applauded

You were promised fortune
But instead you chose
To spend your days
Traversing old and hallowed halls
Deep within ancient
And blistered walls
Choosing to ignore the calls
To profit from your knowledge

You unleashed those ideas
Once tucked away in some
Secret vault deep within
Your capacious brain
And for that you attracted
An avalanche of acclaim
But those who praise you
Have not seen what I have seen

They have not been
Where I have been
For decades we have talked
In feeble candlelight
Years pass and we still inhabit
This detached and distant planet
Revelling in our academic eccentricities
Ours is a subtle complicity

You rise, you fall, you capture me
You pull me beneath a turquoise sea
You exploit some weakness within me
I was caught up in your dragnet
And yet, and yet, the waves still leap
As with gritted eyes I greet the morning
The nights are endless. The days are long
You are a bad egg. I know that now

I caress your pale and speckled shell
I break you open. Your spirit seeps out
‘The stench, the stench,’ I cry.
I have witnessed your worst
I have seen your inner scars, your warts
Your puss-ridden sores and at night
You scour the streets, hunting for whores
And yet I still love you to your rotting core

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