Principled guards fidget again.
Conscience beckoned from deep within.
Natures coming into sight.
Is right best? Is best right?
Guards stay fast hiding fright.
No match they know for nature’s might.
Conscience strength is what they need,
Or upon the guards the beasts will feed.
Natures howl, growl, snarl and roar.
Guards uneasily await the more
From conscience napping in its nest.
Is best right? Is right best?
Comes forth a dim beam in the night:
Don’t do what seems best; do what seems right.
But which is right, and which only best?
My natures confused, lie down for a rest.
Soldiers seek counsel to find what was meant.
Which would be right in the answer it sent?
If rightful perceptions are for lust or for greed,
Then upon you, gallant soldiers, my natures will feed.
Some other things I've written about: