Igor’s thoughts

Suddenly, it seems, the hirsute crest of flourishing youth announces its
Intention to pass the way of the rest of all flesh.
Cruel is the irony of existence, played out through the path of

Testosterone: in early hours it runs a relaxed
Riot, coursing freely, unworn by care, unfettered by
Anxiety; beholden only to the satisfaction of physical
Necessity, revelling in the magnetic pull of a crown quite so full - but
Soon, the daily grind inevitably
Impinges, inescapably, upon
The hitherto heedless viscerality of

Glowing adolescence,
Leading the newly over-active adrenals to attend
Openly to their accelerated
Recession of the erstwhile pilous perimeter and its
Ignominious retreat to entirely unexpected
Areas.

Many are the compensations to be gleaned from a life increasingly
Unencumbered by juvenile confusions and agitations; yet
None can deny how cruel indeed a
Deception is wrought upon us: to grant so transcendent a glimpse of
Immortality through the briefly burgeoning bloom of experience - so swiftly and so softly whisked, wholly, away.