The Embodiment Of Any Age

It is always the
Young Men who must die
Each
Age requires an embodiment
Which in turn
Is merely that same
Tragedy

We do
Not age.

All the scholars
And lyricists in their
Jeweled gardens
Eloquent
Villas, quills in hand
Pale and ashy at
The-end-of-the-World they
Are men and they
Laugh. Because that is more than
Tragedy and less
Than hope

Becoming
Ghosts in turn. Silver
Photographs. The way
They
Carried their
Jackets. The hates they
Wore. Everything is breathy
And shortened as
The winter of angered
Gods freezes the
Rhineā€¦

Saint Augustine
May have been
Right. Edward
Gibbon may have been
As
Well.

And the young men return to
The Ancient monasteries broken
Aqueducts where they
Upon German-French-Italian(Roman) roads
Learn their own Time

And tragedy