In a candle lit room,
in a state of naked withdrawal, he sat.
Frowning at the world,
he no longer understood.
In the presence of solitary friends,
and belongings personified.
There was deep conversation and drowning opinion,
but no debate.
Deciding his own fate,
with no influence of belief or competition from an equal,
he is an elite.
The man to whom the world owes a debt.
Engaging the world,
from the security of his mind he is a visionary.
The world is his oyster,
and he its prisoner.