The Three

Plato screamed Utopia,
And justice is you as you being you.
Beauty and truth remain mysteries,
Yet the common man recognizes both
When the maiden he sees
And fact his senses confirm.
Better yet to not have opened the eyes
In bitter entry to reality,
And to have stayed unborn in nothingness
With no need for grasping...gasping
For breaths of light.

Choose a myth to wake by
And in it find hope,
Only to find at the end of a sickle
The revelation of
Justice, beauty, and truth.