The lowly poet.
Locked in contest with a Dark God, A Shadow Prince
and the Potential of What's to Come. Each vying for the heart of a muse;
a God of fiery conviction who's eyes pierce the soul.
"The heart is infinite," says he, "With waters warm and calm. Come inside my loves, be safe and feel loved."
His promise, a bold commitment, befitting his bold gladiators. Locked in
combat with one another and themselves, he addresses one and all.
"My Shadowy Prince, come inside." he says, with arms open.
The
Shadow Prince vanishes; enveloped, merged with another darkness until
his unique beauty is diluted and he can hear the God no more.
"My Dark Adonis, come to me and rule with love, by my side always."
The Adonis turns away, unable to see through his own dark visions to the light of the love he's being offered.
His Conviction still fiery, yet his eyes now masked with the sadness of loss, he turns next to the poet.
"What
of you, my lowly poet?" he asks, "I can see your heart and it is empty
and broken. Will you come to me and accept this gift I have offered?"
"My God, I am humbled by your offer. Such is your beauty that I could
write a million verses speaking its value and not yet be worthy of it.
What place have I, amongst Dark Adonises and Shadow Princes?" says he, eyes
cast to the dirt.
"Come to me then, my love," he beckons him, "Come
and be my champion of the Broken Hearted. A Champion must surely deserve
the same as Dark Adonises and Shadow Princes."
"My God, I bow before
your generosity, but I fear that I am but a plaything to one as
beautiful as you. A contrived distraction to be enjoyed until you grow
weary of my artist's heart." came the soft reply.
"My Champion," she
says, "Your words hurt me. The heart is infinite. As you can create a
million verses, so can I find a million ways to love you, a dark God and
a Shadow Prince; all equally, each never replacing the other."
"God, I am humbled to be at your side and I feel safe and complete with my artist's heart inside yours."
Joining
with the God, as Champion, this Lowly Poet looks down on a Dark Adonis blinded by the night and a Shadow Prince lost to the dark. In the
milieau of pain and loss, what can be seen now, is the potential of
What's to Come for the Champion and the God.
"What of that?" the Champion says, pointing toward new Potential.
The God only smiles.
"Come to me," he beckons it, "The heart is infinite"
This is an epic poem I wrote about 4 years ago. I reworked and updated it a bit, so please do let me know what you think. And as always comment and share widely!
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