My Fool's Lament

Once, I set forth with jester's grin,
Eager for the world to let me in.
Yet now I tread, my laughter stilled,
My youthful zeal long since fulfilled.

Each horizon brought me fleeting joy,
Each new dawn, a gift to employ.
But over years, sunsets amassed,
Each glowing eulogy of my past.

Still in Fool's garb, I wear my years,
A motley stitched with laughter and tears.
My staff's grown heavy, my bag light—
With bittersweet lessons from day to night.

I see the roads fork, tangled and worn,
Echoing dissonance of a world torn.
My Fool's eyes tear, for even as I jest,
I know too well, none pass the test.

With each step forward, my smile's a guise,
For the sadness dwelling in wiser eyes.
Though I carry the lightness of the Fool,
My heart's grown heavy, in this endless duel.

A quiet march toward dusk's embrace,
In a world I know I cannot erase.
As the Fool, I play my part,
With both wisdom and sadness.