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