The Storyteller

My words flow over from a separate place,

Like a separate face showing up for a moment

Just to show them I can leverage grace.

But I can’t make them face the facts

That be running back from the past I left behind,

That’s a separate track a different race.

And now the mirror will show them what I see day to day

The horrors and the mourners of a tragic world

I would have to say,

Nothing could prepare me for a world so broken and tragic.

But they act as if everything, every day there’s something new.

But history does repeat itself,

Man always making the same mistakes.

And then when you bring to them the forgotten truth,

They look at you like you’re the monster

Then start hunting you, a trap to lay.

But we all must learn not to trust the net lain before us

Before they catch and torture even more of us

It’s best to just watch and pray.

Observe what’s going on and take notes

Then survive to live on another day.

But these are the cards, the hand that life deals us,

There is no other way, right?

There’s no other way.

But it’s a shame that we would give in to such a narrative.

It’s not over, and it’s imperative you lock in your shoulders

And prepare for the burden rolling down the hill.

Now a sixth of us (Sisyphus) will bear this rock on our backs

At least until the rest escape.

At last, we can move on to the next stage set before us.

Last I heard there were seven before the play ends at the chorus.

The world a stage, the people its actors,

But when you factor in the hatred that leads man, it’s no longer play.

It’s real world conflicts with real world problems

And we need real world solutions so the real world solves them.

Not just night the mare that is to come in tragedy

Nor dream of what may happen or may not.

That’s why I want to stop dreaming and face the real music.

’Cause reality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

If it were up to me we would meet their hatred with that forgotten Love.

Destroy their lies with the Truth they try to hide.

Pick apart the lives they lead to bury the bodies they left behind

’Cause the closet will meet max capacity eventually

And then the truth will reveal what they really got hidden inside.

The ugly monster fighting to break free

Threatening to show itself to the world

An image so horrid, their morbid activities

Spew forth like a flood, the scroll of their depravities unfurls.

The day they meet those dark foreboding clouds

The day they top off that growing bloodied mound

The day that mask on their faces finally crack

We will all bear witness,

To their downfall.

They’re done for and it’s safe to come back out now.

Until that day comes, many will remain hid behind their curtains

Too timid to cut the performance off and deal with the burden

And fixing any lingering mistakes of those before them.

We’re still setting the stage for the next act

But there is more to come than just that.

How can you have a play without those critiques

Those nitpicking people pulling it apart piece by piece

As if they written it.

Then when the time comes to give feedback

They rip a new one,

Unless they like you then present a good review on

The site everybody loves to come and read.

I will not let them pick me apart just for the sake of making me bleed.

An engineer builds a building that it may stand,

An architect builds a building for those clapping hands.

While they may paint them how they want to,

What’s important is the foundation of those building hands.

’Cause through wind and rain, storm and gale,

This building is never moving.

Rather I gather more materials to keep improving.

Stubbornness, a worthy risk to prove the perfect cornerstone.

The world gave me nothing to build on top of,

So I had to find and fashion my own.

Not out the system they employ, nor the struggles they supply

But the faith and realness I did demand.

Which is how I found that indestructible corner stone,

And this building will now forever stand.

The show must go on! As they say from the biz perspective.

Cause the stage is still set to keep going, and now there’s a new directive

A new intermission.

Death, a result we all can envision but can’t access.

Many spend sleepless nights worried about all that’s coming next.

Some like to promote the thought,

They can’t wait for things to end.

Though I shared that sentiment once,

I won’t ever again.

I am here to be exactly who I need to be

And that requires life.

Death will come for me one day

Which is why I will make the most out of this short ride.

A David facing down Goliath that is the world

Wielding the stones found in the creek over yonder.

I will face him down,

Along with the army stood behind him,

Hesitate no longer

To take hold of the destiny promised to me long ago.

I knew it would take a bit longer before I returned to the fold.

My words flowed from a separate place

And now they’re back home.

This stage is a never-ending plane in a realm of infinity

Filled with endless possibilities

A cacophony of uncertainty and unbridled chaos.

They lost order in the torrent of this rabbit hole sat before my feet.

I need to explore to bring back order before it’s too late for you and me.

I take the center stage and make a daring leap,

Then dive, lower and lower I go

Deep down that growing rabbits hole.

And now I’m chaotically falling, they got me holding on to a rope so I know I won’t get lost ’till it snaps and I don’t know if I’ll last on my own before the hole closes on top of me. There’s gotta be another way to get back to where I once was before the darkness swallows whatever’s left of my sanity, but when I search below me there is no canopy, no net to catch me before that crushing fall. Is this all? Did I finally fail? Thoughts running through me like an unforgiving hell, and they just won’t shut up. Closer to the ground, starting to drown in the darkness that surrounds me, no more light filtering in from the stage above, I’ve had enough of this passing descent, but I wonder if I should give up and then, THUD.

I come to, in a difference place, a completely new realm,

A narrow sidewalk

Surrounded by all kinds of

Skyscrapers advertising this and that, hoping for buyers.

Each room inside of these buildings composed of writers.

I walk along and hear the crowds droning on as they spectate my activity from a distance.

Among the walls of these buildings, millions of posters signed missin’

I see a reflection of myself on the page wearing a smile spread from ear to ear.

Then I see the strings of a mask hiding how I really should appear.

I rip the mask off and discover a growing frown.

A look so defeated, incomplete it shatters my already calloused heart.

I move to the next poster and the next,

Watching as the mirror image starts to fall apart.

I wake with a start when I reach that final page.

No longer can I see my own face.

All I see is a shadow hanging over a field of crimson ink.

But no. This I not the reality that I can link to my own.

That writer is not a part of who I am,

That tragedy is not in my story plans.

I rip the poster from the wall and do so to them all,

Breaking the curse that lays over this city.

The writers, from their halls of piling work and idle printers

Finally freed from their own eternal torment.

What is this world growing inside of me that seems so foreign?

I remember the days the sun shined brightest for me.

I remember the days my heart had brightened within me.

I remember the days my mind was enlightened by the toughest mysteries.

I still remember those days, fearless and unyielding

Strong and resilient, I can’t be building this darkness

This chaos within myself.

Which is why that outer voice will be of great help.

I crawl out from the hole which opened up and stand to face the crowds.

Cheers, Boos, words of hatred, words of encouragement,

All so loud they fill the room.

But I don’t hear anything at all.

I stare at the one who stands above it all.

He smiles, his approval far surpassing all others

And their ever-growing tirade of shouts and muttered scoffs.

I bow to the crowds only to further piss them off.

They will all know my name whether they love or despise it

All that matters is that they all memorize it.

I can monologue along if they’re willing to listen

I got my own appointed mission.

I once abandoned it,

Swallowed by the problems I let get in the way

Like Jonah,

I was stuck in a the mouth of self-doubt

Where it swims about the seas of trepidation.

But we can’t run from life’s problems and the trials we’re facing.

Because they will catch back up eventually to battle us once more

The shadows will come to swallow us again,

Which is why we must prepare before.

That final battle is coming nearer

And so many lost their swords when they first left home.

I will not walk around blindly disarmed

I wield my weapon across the world I roam.

Your fight isn’t done just yet,

Your race isn’t won just yet,

Your words aren’t worthless,

They’ve just taken a breath in a world that does not hear them.

A world where those winning by themselves

Hate and fear them.

What greater weapon is there but the voice

Carrying along the wind like a song of unbreakable sound.

The noise will eventually make its way back around.

Louder than it was before, growing truer by the second

Though my words came from a separate place they found me once again

And now I’ve secured the room they rest in.

To me my voice is all I got in this world

Where distractions are met with a constant interference

Of violence and anger, which is why I practice perseverance.

There’s not much left to say, but to wish you luck on the journey ahead.

For better of for worse, we’ll all eventually meet towards the end.

How you run your race is up to you

What you find to be best then that’s what you do

But remember that fading voice.

Remember that piece of hardware your mind seems to bring back

When you need it the most.

You have to use every tool that you got or you’ll never get back your soul.

You’ll never get back that spirit that gave you drive and a sense of purpose

Because no matter what anybody says, you’re never worthless.

This is the end of my performance,

Time to clear the stage for whatever comes tomorrow,

Whether it brings sunshine and joy or rain and sorrows

I’d at least like to follow up with my own lost and gains.

Suffer long but never give,

Peace as strong as the mightiest rivers

One that flows throughout this land to the end of that horizon.

’Cause beyond these endless sands of time

There’s a new era risin’.