Chargement...

Ever on the move

With deceit, I walk

“My servant, my precious servant
Do not pick up firewood from the outskirts of the forest
It only lasts a day and it’s part
Walk on deep into its heart
For there you shall find the key to the forest
And you shall want for wood no more
You will  light everlasting fires to keep us warm
Whose embers will burn brightly from dusk to dawn
You shall find relief for your weary feet
And permanent solace for your blistered hands
Your neighbours will look upon you and wonder
How you succeed where they flounder”
 
On I quickly marched into the forest
Armed with a machete in its sheath
I did not keel at the monster shadows trees cast at night
Nor the dense vegetation that dared stand in my way during the day
On I pompously marched deep into the forest
Fueled by the cruel pain from piercing thorns
Emboldened by visions of better things to come
Oblivious to the fallen souls reduced to bones in my path
On I marched unimpeded
Braving the bone-chilling howling of the wolves
And the whistling of the cold winds in the dark
Until I held the key to the forest close to my heart
 
When I returned marred and sapped
I found my city washed away by the sea
All my companions had fled
With rust and death, the ground bled
Downcast, I looked at the key dancing on my fingers
Where hope once lay, tears now lingered
“There is no place to light a fire master,” I cried
My master, Deceit, consolingly replied
“Worry not my dear servant
For there is yet another key to be found”
I looked up with a smile
And readied my feet to travel another mile
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