Prodigy (standard:poetry, 187 words)
Author: kendall thomas	Added: Nov 18 2003	Views/Reads: 3496/0	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. 


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