There is a fearless leader,
Spoken oft in time,
His ample swell of Rivendell,
is written deep in rhyme.

They say this man is driven,
By the people in his trust,
He does his work by honor,
Both what he wants and must.

He’s a king among his equals,
He’s mighty among men,
Kind in luck and kind in rage,
He’s worth not one but ten!

He speaks his thoughts with measure,
He calculates his choice,
He’ll sacrifice through all his life,
An underdog to voice -

His faith is beyond question,
Of Christian design,
Between his science and his God,
He draws a scarlet line.

He’s built like a fortress,
Carved carefully from rock,
He’s got one eye on the calories,
And one eye on the clock.

He crosses all the checkboxes,
He’s strong, kind and good,
He’s lived a hundred human lives,
Enhanced his livelihood.

He’s build a hundred charities,
He helps his fellow man,
When he see sees a stranger ill at ease,
he extends a helping hand.

Now who you ask is this man?
Has he not a single vice?
Is it possible this man is but
god shrouded in disguise?

Is this the person we idolize?
A man who is none of us?
Take our prime inequalities,
And leave the rest to dust.

In tragedy of purpose,
We consume our hurried lives,
Ticking off an endless list,
that ends but in demise.

Dealt the cards we’re given,
we optimize for pure,
We’re made to last a century,
And all we ask is more.