Vires Et Honestas Poem by Martin Lochner

How cunningly we press the nickel of fate,

Heads for fiction
Tails for illusion

Throwing coin for our Gods and our voids

Fighting for the dark and fighting for the light

The semetic curtain rips, Judas hangs for all of us and the modern world goes to a perennial waste,

Oh, the paraphernalia of who is right and who is wrong.

So I can only offer cliches: '

no man is an island' and ' no man is a God, '

Barbarous inflictions of existence awaits us and the roman in me says
'Vires et honestas '

I will live through my burdens and I will die knowing like Socrates that I know nothing.

'Vires et honestas '
For my wife

'Vires et honestas '
For my child

'Vires et honestas '
For my humanity