He entered the stable of kings,
thinking the nearness of the throne would crown him.
He wore the saddle of glory,
and tasted the grain of another’s destiny.

But the soul cannot be tricked by garments,
nor the heart by walls.
Essence breaks through every mask.

So when he opened his mouth,
the sound that leapt forth was not praise,
nor hymn, nor neigh of majesty
it was the cry of his own nature,
a bray echoing the secret:
“You are what you are.”