|Prodigy (standard:poetry, 187 words)|
|Author: kendall thomas||Added: Nov 18 2003||Views/Reads: 1955/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|The futility of life and art.|
Prodigy by Will . Where is that dream time of youth and wonder when all the waking avenues of life seemed open before me and bejeweled skies beckoned in that august dawn? . What fabulous kingdoms my lucid mind devised. What riches beyond wealth compiled. What beautiful women wondrous beyond desire. And mine, all mine, for a touch of gold that came so easily in that dawn. . Ah, Lucifer, how you did then despair, yet laugh now at my ragged ware that age has brought so low. . A dreamer dead in a garden fair, I held council with the worm, the leaf, the stone. The silent stone always won without a word, but eloquent. . I threw a host of stars into the air, and back they came as pale, brown leaves murmuring with a broken throat a thistled truth that time had run and I, my clever I, was done. . I held a thought in my hand and squeezed it tightly, yet it ran, and when I was done, night rushing truth had won and recognition gave and took, and I was gone. Tweet
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