The virtuous man walks down,
to the people waiting for him to speak.
Only I notice the slight limp in his leg.

The virtuous man stands in front and speaks,
to the people waiting for his views.
Only I notice the worry in his eyes.

The virtuous man expresses his views,
to the people who wait to be heard.
Only I notice the hesitation in his voice.

The virtuous man starts to listen,
to the people who wait to be praised.
Only I notice his monotony of his answers.

The virtuous man sings his praises,
to the people who wait for him to come down.
Only I notice the weariness of his body.

The virtuous man
falls down the steps
towards the people who
have faces frozen from shock
Only I notice
the smile on his face.

Why does he fall onto the rocks,
to a certain death?

Why does he smile as he falls,
to a certain death?

The man speaks, as he starts to pass away on the ground,
to the people about his lugubrious life...
I notice... nothing for once.

For I am not a virtuous man anymore.