Battered and bruised on this slab of the Gods,

Cracked by the weight of their expectations,

Tempered by beatings my limbs are steel rods,

Toughened and shaped by their perturbations.

 

Veins run with blood that is not like my blood,

Mind, with thoughts that are not like my own,

Understanding yet misunderstood,

Wounds only hurt when they cut to the bone.

 

Knowing I wish to know the unknown,

Knowing I know the things that I wish,

Grasping the facts like a dog with a bone,

The jawing and gnawing I must accomplish.

 

Breaking my teeth in pursuit of this truth,

To chew at the gristle that clings ever yet,

Pursuing the marrow that hides at its core,

To savour its richness lest I forget.

 

A history I've seen and lived and made,

And deep in its meat tasted more than my own,

To sate the hunger for truths there inlaid,

I know I must chew this right down to the bone.