To Discover Truth

A shining king,
With his future to sing
Set forth to discover truth.
"I hunt the dawn!"
He called and was gone
To journey with galloping youth.

Far, far did he roam
With wind at his bones,
Until one dusk in his path,
Like a silent pillar
Of cheerless winter,
There stood the exile Death.

"Not yet! I have time.
Years are still mine…"
His voice fell dry of breath.
As if to reply,
With an age-worn sigh,
Extended the hand of Death.

"Your life could have been
Of laughter and dreams."
Spoke dispassionate Death.
"Oh fool, don't you know
—wherever you go—
Within yourself is your truth."