He walks forward, though he never looks up

And earth as we know it shines in all brilliance

With sunlight and breeze, starlings singing…

He walks, thinking only of penance

 

He walks with a pencil in a pocket on his hip

Though no paper. It has an imperfectionless tip

And though radiance reigns in the rainless blue sky

He walks forward, an ever blank slate on the day he will die

 

Sunlight stares at the boy who defies her

He who knows not of the shadows aside her

And when mountainous heights project darkness incarnate

Forward he walks as on her anger she ruminates

 

Depths are unknown to the boy from the heights

He could only ever see what the sun would alight

Yet depths are a form of her shadows, present still 

And so unaware he trudged, no defiance in his will

 

And though he saw none of the path laid before him

He always pressed forward, slothful but determined

Thus when the path melted to a pit deep below

He still knew no darkness, though there he did go

 

And jolting awake in a startle and cry

The boy blinked terrified of the fate of his eyes

Where no ill fate had befallen before

Weakness had won quite a powerful score

 

He sat in the dark. 

And light never came. 

Sometimes he slept, in darkness as in light

Though dreams only sometimes confused him with sight

 

Though it pains me to write this final rhyme

Never would I confuse you with false time

For though mankind dreams oft, and often of hope

Fate is not bright when you fail with it to cope