What Thou Dost Negate

O brother mine, with dreams so vast,

thou wish’st thy ambitions true;

imploring lady luck to paint

thy fancied visions into view.

Thou speak'st of kingdoms yet unborn,

of futures rich and fine,

yet ever doth thy chosen road

through fields of omens wind.

Where cautious souls would halt and turn

at banners dyed in red,

thou marchest forth with eager smile

where wiser minds have fled.

The blind man knoweth not the hue

of lantern or of flame—

thus mercy often leads his steps,

for sight was never blame.

Yet thou art not deprived of eyes,

nor robbed of wit by fate;

thy fault lies not in what thou seest,

but what thou dost negate.

For every voice that crieth, "Hold!"

thou deem'st a test or jest,

and every hand stretched forth in care

an obstacle at best.

The gilded path doth catch thine eye,

the gaudy thing that gleams;

thou choosest spark o'er guiding light

and glitter over means.

Thus every feast is bought with lies,

each merry hour a theft,

whilst those who love thee pay the cost

when naught but debts are left.

Each promise feigned, each labour shunned,

each meeting cast aside,

was borne upon another's back

to shield thy fearful pride.

Our brethren learned to doubt thee then,

beneath thy shifting word;

our patience waned, our trust grew thin,

though all thy tales were heard.

And still thou dreamest noble dreams,

still thy visions soar,

whilst building towers upon the sand

and wondering why they stand no more.

I do not curse thy lofty hopes,

nor scorn what thou couldst be—

instead I mourn the wreckage strewn

where once stood family.

For not by blindness art thou led,

nor cruel stars above,

but by a will that heareth not

the voices born of love.

---

This poem began as a letter that will never see the light of day. It was originally written during a difficult period in my family's life, when concern for a loved one had become intertwined with frustration, disappointment, and exhaustion. Though inspired by the consequences of one person's choices, this poem is not intended as a condemnation. Rather, it is a plea—a hope that they might correct course before any further damage is done.