To All, To All, I would thus call
Preparing for an imminent fall
To friends I know and some I’ve met
Could I depend on their mind’s set
What would be their claim of denial?
To step away from my deadly trial
But this is now, not the way of the past
When only by swordplay could you hope to last
When battles occurred for less than an insult
With daggers and death for the resultant tumult
Today it is not asked for aides to battle
There are no steeds on which to saddle
How do we call such acquaintances held?
No longer is there a chance of being felled
How do we rate or measure our kin
Do we bother to see beneath their skin?
No rather we give in to doubt held privacy
Hoping for an absence of random contrivancy
We can only judge our friends by selfish traits
Knowing that within them fear and denial waits
Have we friends now as they were before
Or has giving of our lives become no more
Of course battles to the death no longer exist
Civilization has all but covered with a grainy mist.