The Philosophy of Socrates: Part XVIII

--The Breeze was light the smell of natural scents floated seemingly through the air, Socrates sitting under a tree trying to get some much needed sleep, until a voice sounded softly--

A Voice:

Oh Socrates...Another night falls by your wayside...your philosophies making theatre among the citizens you teach,

Moral Ethics you help them realize...the anti-governmental romanticism you speak of from time to time beginning to take hold,

I must ask you...your lovely voice that sticks to you like a limb to an aging tree...Why do you teach?

Socrates:

You...voice in the air...you follow me everyday...all night you travel among the swirls of air that pass my ear,

Why do you ask such a silly question as to why I teach...You would be the one to know...you know everything I do,

I must teach...It is not because I want too rather than I must if I am to feel good about myself on any given day,

The gods of the Athenians must know the good deeds I display...and I must admit that sometimes I feel you are one,

The pestering you give me anytime I want to relieve the feet that carry me from town to town...city to city.

A Voice:

I understand your concern oh Socrates...knowing that I will not leave you alone...but you must realize I am your guidance,

If not for me you would not have the argument needed to finish your day...your self proclaimed glory of a message to tell others,

I feed your thoughts...it is because you see yourself as ignorant to wisdom that you become wise...that you criticize my questions and answers,

Oh Wiseless Socrates...You are much wiser than many souls that will roam this plane of existence for thousands of years to come,

Alas I have said once before...you will not be hear to experience the glory that will be given to you however...Father of Philosophy they will speak.

Socrates:

I do not wish to be called any such name...there is no worse a declaration...I only wish to speak for individuals so they may find their self,

The name given to me after my death will haunt my grave...I do not wish to be disturbed for such aimless publications,

Voice in the wind...I ask that you make it so...I want to only give others hope...to criticize the government system to enhance social structure,

If an individual is happy...then his significant other is too...therefore the friend comes soon after...thus the enemy must forgive and forget,

This is the theory in which I impose...to push for standards of intellectual well-being...the flourishing of emotional perfection.

A Voice:

You will realize soon enough that your drive to help others is nothing more than your self-declaration of emotional satisfaction,

A level of sub-consciousness that is met with the gods ultimate approval...your mindful babbling of random thought ringing true,

But enough of my motionless words...Socrates you must sleep gracefully tonight...Tommorow brings dread and mourning that will challenge you,

A notion of yourself will be tested by mornings light...your aunt's home must be sought...sleep well old friend.

Socrates:

Why must I visit my relative's house...what conviction will she face...spirit...voice in the wind...the god's messenger...speak now and answer truthfully!

--Socrates calls out for the voice to answer...but after minutes of waiting for a response, he gives up and lays back down, his eyes watching the stars as he wonders with uneasy nervousness about what the sunrise will bring.--