show me first-handedly
that hopes of ataraxia
are not a mere myth
not a green ancient dragon
locked behind bars and beams
sleeping on heaps of gold
rubies, gems, and rarities
for all the worries, doubts,
and shameful resentments
get stuck in the pits
of the metal barred beams
trapped at the gumline
dripping fungal blood
on his stained teeth
a physical reminder
of the flaneur's existence
the speed of hope
running track and field
and the myth of ataraxia
protecting the gems
of human philosophy
under his inflamed breath
and dense dreaming head
LINK: https://allpoetry.com/poem/16663127-ataraxia-by-Colvet
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