Some stories are not meant to be improved
Through generations' changeless retellings.
Some theories are not to be disproved
Despite new and uncertain rebellings.
And so what seems inviolate remains
So, as we know that it is meant to be.
The ancient archetypes combat the pains
Of every epoch, blessed by destiny.
The adversary's apathy this time.
The jaded know the real underdogs are
The favored fate would upset. The sublime
Deserve not awe but pity. We would jar
Conventions. Let the villains and those deemed
Evil have days in court, show we were wrong.
Let everything apparent that once seemed
Secure be shattered. Let the unsung's song
Blare cynicism till the day we need
Champions more than ever to fulfill
Predestined roles when roused. An awesome deed
Is done, and somehow we can marvel still.