dises

2 0 0

by equilivebrium

by equilivebrium

this ain't a relay race, you can't pass the
   baton around.
that's the weight of your crown.
even a relay race player finishes its turn
   before letting go,
why are you focusing on someone who
   could take over—if you have begun
   running right away, you'd already be
   halfway there, no?

indeed, I'm well-aware of the scroll of
   responsibilities that comes with its shine.
can't play the part? don't wear it then.
why am I scribbling rhymes, why not just
   help you? oh, trust me I'm willing.
   indeed, I will.
indeed, I will help you—but helping you
   doesn't mean shielding you from storms
   and thunders just so you could parade
   rainbows and sunshine in those halls.

I can guide you, sure.
I can be by your side as you venture.
but I have no intention on being your slave,
   your shield, nor your sacrificial lamb—
   and that will remain so.
never again, will I go for extreme lengths
   only for credits not to be given where it's
   due.

I'm willing to lend my hand, no doubt.
But earn it first—try the route.
Or tell me something interesting, how will I
benefit from this?
For I have a long receipt of your deeds—

And it's grand total ain't gratitude, but
"dis"es—disinterest, distrust, and
distaste.