Archaic Ingrains

I have been and I have done,

I have conquered and I have won.

I have walked the ramp, amidst roaring clap,

Not once, not twice but lap after lap.

Now what has changed I don’t comprehend,

Each of my strides reverts with a bend.

Nothing seems to be working my way,

I am strangled with utter dismay.

Where do I go to find might and solace?

What do I do to reclaim my place?

My friends rarely see in my eye,

Furtherer I reach, furtherer they fly.

Grieved I run from pillar to post,

Always followed by a pompous ghost.

A day I asked its trail to refrain,

‘How can I’, it said, ‘I am your archaic ingrains’.

‘I sculpted your being, I gave you fame,

I made the board, to imprint your name.

I am the essence, I am the core,

Hold me high and continue to adore’.

What it said were truth and fact,

Then where have I missed in my act?

The silence around, I asked the mirror,

Stop reflecting, reveal the ulterior.

Appalling images, the mirror threw,

While I slacked off, the pastures grew.

With great fervor and thump, I came aboard,

But en route, I missed sharpening my sword.

The ingrains are revered, have no flaw,

What they lack is the honed claw.

How virtuous they can be, I now realize,

If I would graze them against topical wise.