YOUR MASTER


It matters not.
What words you speak mean nothing.
Your arguments
however true they seem
will ever ring false for me.
I serve a different master
a nobler one
a victorious one.
You hold your Caesar out,
but I choose wiser.
I choose braver.
I choose Pompey.


A decision must be made
a bridge crossed
and our opinions
held so noisily
for such years
cannot bear each others weight
anymore.
We have decided
and so we must live
upon different paths
until we live no more.


Your master will suffer not mine
and the reverse, likewise,
is true.
We have our lords.
We have our lives.
We have our mutual decisions
and may gods forgive us
as we agree to disagree
until we fight to prove who's right.

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