The persistence of myth

The stories of generations float through space, living on in the minds, hearts and discs of untold millions. If the world were devoid of the human race, its myths would live on still, lying dormant, until an intrepid adventurer stumbles on a memory bank - and the stories would burst forth like a raging flood, bringing the race to life once again.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Forbidden fruit

The shadow of the mountain conceals
Paths we were never meant to take
For our own good.
Sometimes the cloud breaks
Revealing inviting walks
Whispering groves
Promises and adventure
A seductive respite from the ennui
The dragging days of interminable years
Making us older each minute
As death stares us in our face.
We stir our steps
Hesitant at first
And then with fearful eagerness
Ignoring the thorns we never saw
Scrabbling, stumbling we fly headlong
Reaching for a seductive dream
Reaching for the forbidden fruit
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)