A Generous Man!

The ledger balanced, every column true,

A life of candor, seen in all I do.

No whispered lie, no shadow in my gaze,

I walked the sunlit path through all my days.

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But sun, though bright, can bleach the hues away,

And leave a landscape stark in pale display.

My hands are clean, my conscience sleeps in peace,

Yet in my heart, a hollow won't release.

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I see the smiles, the nods of high regard,

"A good man," they pronounce, "his word unmarred."

But accolades are brittle, cold, and frail,

Against the wind that whispers of the gale.

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The gale of passion, risks I dared not take,

The wild detours for goodness' gentle sake.

I built a fortress on a moral ground,

And find myself within, securely bound.

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Is virtue's prize a muted, somber tone?

A life well-ordered, utterly alone?

The honest mirror shows a face I know,

Yet in its depths, a stranger starts to grow.

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He yearns for colors I refused to paint,

For paths untrodden, for a soul less saint.

And as the twilight gathers, soft and deep,

I wonder what dreams honest men must weep.