A Tale Told

They were two of different kinds, sitting in the corner. They were friends it seemed, meeting for the first time in a long time.

” Tell me friend,” said one, ” how has life fared with you?” For it was quite obvious to him that something was weighing on his companion. He seemed much too old, with time having no say in it.

” You wish to know?” questioned his companion

” Of course, I would not have asked otherwise,” was replied,” I’m worried about you”.

With an exhale the companion began his tale.

 

Old friend, don’t be scared

I have a secret to tell

I followed the hidden trails

You won’t believe what I found there

Many a fantasy, floating in air

I just stood there and stared

 

Then I heard them calling me 

I could feel them pulling me

And hear them whispering

They whispered sweet things

Soothing things

Things to beckon me

 

They showed me lights that made visions

Visions of what could be

What may be

I reached toward them

To find nothing

Maybe they were hiding?

Of  that I convinced myself

 

Deeper I walked through the hidden trails

‘Till weaker I felt

Was I always this frail?

But further I went

And pushed myself with thoughts of tails

Tails I’d tell of these trails 

Of my journey and success

But my success seemed dimmer

And I was going deeper 

 

I had lost all trace

They were gone, those fantasies 

withered away it seems

And all that’s left of them is a memory of what could be

I was lost

Alone

I mourned what I could not own

I saw it as my end

For what had I left?

Nothing, but the memory of what I could not grasp

My dream seemed a distant past

 

In sorrow I turned

To find a way back, back from the hidden trails

For the longer I stood

The more my sweet memories shook

But I could not let these trails take them 

 

I tried to shake it 

This feeling of dread

Turning I ran, ran as fast as I can

Past the ghosts of my fantasies

‘Till a clearing I saw

As I  burst from those trails

And I felt the dread leave my soul

As I hung my head there

 

This story I tell

As a warning, my friend

Don’t reach for what you can not hold

For this story I’ve told 

Is not just for you alone

But for all to know

Not to lust for the glow of what is unknown

For what may look like gold

May easily be worth nothing at all

 

And what’s left after this?

After the searching

The waiting and yearning

Perhaps  just a shell

A semblance of hell

With nothing before 

And darkness encroaching

 

But now this story must end 

Do with it what you can, old friend

And perhaps I’ll see you again”

 

With his story ended, the companion gathered his belongings, and with a last nod at his friend, he left. Behind him was left a pondering figure, alone, in a silent corner.

 

-AMR

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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