16 October 2012
This is my most recent poem and arose as a result of a discussion with my family about the danger's of inaction
A wise man went unto a witch, his fortune to be told He hoped to see his future days afore he grew to old He yearned to know if he should live or have a fatal flaw He paid the witch with sacks of gold, then asked her what she saw. . . . His dreams were great and mighty, filled with triumph and success His problems small and sickly, simple matters to address His goal was firstly happiness, with wealth not far behind These things he hoped the witch would see, to ease his wondering mind. . . . The witch stared deep into her flames, the visions wrought in fire The wise man waited patiently, though he soon began to tire He fell asleep and when he awoke, the witch stood o'er his head She told him then of what she'd seen while he slumbered in his bed . . . "I've found saints in shadows when they can't be seen in day Sinners in the sunlight that you cannot push away Demons dare to walk the streets, no mortal man to fear Children cry in misery with no one there to hear. . . . A future wrought with poverty and death throughout the land Hate and pain and tragedy, all cast from one man's hand Though first he seemed a savior, he soon cursed what once he praised Though first he built and nurtured, in the end he only razed". . . . The wise man sat in hollow shock, his lofty goals now tainted By the dark and dreary picture that in his mind was painted He asked the witch who was the man who caused this doom to be His hope to find and slay him, thus to thwart the misery . . . The witch with sadness in her eyes, made only a single sound And with this softly spoken word, the man's heart began to pound Although he wished to stop his ears, his heart already knew Although he wished it wasn't so, the word she spoke was "You". . . . He then fell to his knees, the witch to beg, to find some fateful day Some deed of his he might undo, the future so to sway For if this evil came about by a single deed or thought He still had hope that he could change this future he had wrought . . . The witch with sadness in her eyes began to speak again "There is" she said "a way for you to cleanse this vile stain No deed that you will ever do could lead to this tomorrow Rather, it is the lack thereof, that brings the world this sorrow".
The Oracle • Opuss № I