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I have the willpower of a torrential flood.

I have a tongue like a bolt of lightning.

The drive of an ardent wildfire

With the serenity and Zen of a lake’s mirroring surface,

When the sun is just shy enough to hide away from the world five minutes before dawn.

I have traversed the Atlas and soul-searched in temples and nightclubs alike.

As I navigated skyscrapers and mountains of mass media with a wrought-iron compass

I meditated and prostrated and repeated my Ex Corde mantra,

“Om mani padme hum, our Father in heaven,

I pledge allegiance to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth will set you free.”

These old words resound in the Information Age with feigned harmlessness,

Amplified with the subwoofers of today’s youth, screaming, “The only true victory is peace”,

Screaming, “Rise up, daughters and sons of Forever”,

Screaming, “Next stop, the Greater Good!”