Arteija. My home. The place that I love. Where we fly above The land like a dove. The place filled with people, and friends, and helpers all, Who, together, accomplish any task, big or small, And should you have but one single thing, They would rally to your aid, bear your rings, And life is indeed a beautiful place when you’ve got That one, solitary currency which many others have not. And yet it is a currency that weighs heavy in the wallet. A bloodborne burden on my shoulders, even for all it Does for me, all the doors it opens, paths it creates, This key is the key to more omens, heavier weights, What man can carry this boon with wisdom Without seeing it creates these prisons Of the mind, of the soul, of action, Which splits the soul from whole to factions? I want to carry my name with grace and skill, I want to guide these trusting people over the distant hills, To show them all the ways they themselves can grow To lead them to lands beyond what we now know. But to tarry and folly, by and by, that will not just cost me, But tarnish the coin which my family holds in perpetuity. That would spit on all my father has struggled for. This is a responsibility that I will never ignore. These people entrust me their coin, I cannot help but feel it is forlorn. For who could possibly spend such money? Me? No. That’s just funny. I could never be my father, Nor, I think, could any other. But they’ve given me this place, this home. This land is very lonely if you wander it alone. For you would wander Blameless, but Nameless, and Shameless. That is not who I am. I will not go on the lam And abandon the funds Which they’ve left me to run. Tell you what, I think I’ll try my best. No one could spend all this, but I won’t rest If I don’t at least give this a shot. I will act like my father fought, Do my best to be someone worthy of These generous funds, the people’s love. There will be much money left unspent, And I shall not rush to expend these cents, But my current course is better than nothing, truly. Better do something with this than be seen as unruly Irreverent, abhorrent. To turn my back on What I’ve been given is simply wrong. And yet though I leverage these funds into ways to act, I cannot ignore the mere and simple fact That this name, this blood keeps me tethered to the ground. And sometimes I wish to go around and around Till this currency falls from my Being and I launch into the sky Where, free of all this weight, I may rise like an angel and fly.
[Author’s Note: This poem about Archangelo Jatore, son of the revered Guardian of Delta Michaelangelo Jatore, was originally written February 8, 2021 and remastered for release. The first two tracks of Gatekeeper Episode 4 have been written, so expect that sometime soon. Until we have need of one another again.]
