What is duty?
Is it a rose, doomed to wilt and perish and break apart?
Is it the numbered days of a beating heart?
Is it an answer to the cries of those fallen below?
Is it a call to a morality forgotten long ago?
Do we have a duty?
Can it belong to an imaginary destiny that can set all wrongs to right?
Can it be shared by two worlds of strangers blocked by a glass wall?
Can it be left behind and abandoned to the recesses of night?
Can it be a way to rise after a tremendous fall?
Where is duty?
Has it sunken, but did it struggle and scream before it drowned?
Has it flown away, but did it go without a single sound?
Has it fallen, but did it leave before it could be seen?
Has it faded, like an old, discarded dream?