Waking again at 4am, with this
Sword of Damocles over my head,
I wonder who Damocles was, and,
In the modern way, immediately
Satisfy my need to know. A story
Of envy and sycophancy and
Stepping into someone else's shoes.
Dyonisius, rich and powerful
But always under threat.
Damocles given a taste of that life;
Feasting, while the sword hangs
Perilously, by a single horse hair,
Over his head. Damocles choosing
The poor but unthreatened life.
I wonder what lessons there are
To be learnt from this story by me?
The horsehair holding this edifice
In place is pulled so taut, one touch
Would be enough for the sword to fall.
Dionysius lived with the sword. Damocles chose a different way.
Its 5.15 now. I've pondered the story
For long enough. Time to take it
To the unseen world. To process it
In dreamland. Damocles and
Dionysius, both long dead. The
Sword still hanging over all
Our heads. By a horsehair.
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