An Epic Poem
For years I’d been the earl of a village known as So,
whose fertile lands spread out atop a spacious, high plateau.
My chalet overlooked the only road that climbed its grade
Machines of war stood ready if a foe were to invade.
Although imagination is not something that I lack,
it’s hard to think that anyone would actually attack.
But I’d been charged to see to the inhabitants’ defense,
though doubtlessly to them the tax they paid made little sense.
That tribute was my wage, as one commissioned by the king.
To them, it surely seemed that I did not do anything.
The kingdom, where our regent lived, was very far away.
But I maintained our battlements, and they supplied my pay
In truth, I was quite learned, being noble from my birth,
despite the loyal subjects who were doubtful of my worth.
But if one of the war machines had needed much repair,
I would have been forced to employ the craftsmen living there.
Of them I was quite envious, but for another cause.
A lady I had seen in So, whose visage gave me pause.
Of my attention I do think she really was aware.
But highborn though I was, it seemed she really did not care.
At first, I thought that she was merely playing hard to get.
But then I saw how she observed the craftsmen in their sweat.
She might have wed a farmer who wrought produce from his lands.
But clearly, she preferred the men who labored with their hands.
I was then at a loss to know how I could win her love,
this peasant girl that, for some cause, I’d grown enamored of.
But I’d learned of another way that I might win her hand,
or so long years of research had led me to understand.
Concerning operation of all armaments of war,
there may not be a man alive who actually knows more;
though if much mending were required, my job would seem a ruse,
since it could only be from the decay of long disuse.
But armaments and strategies were not all I had learned.
With language are the pages of our history oft turned.
In learning many dialects, which other scholars lacked,
I came upon the legend of a magic artifact.
A chalice there was known of old that manifested dreams.
I found the legend in a book among discarded reams.
The language was archaic, but the tongue was one I’d learned.
I pulled it from the pile of tomes before it could be burned.
Long did I plumb its history to learn where it now lay.
The chalice, so the legend said, was strangely thrown away.
Its form was quite unique, and many sketches I did make
for any messenger dispatched to distant realms to take.
I led them to believe it was an heirloom that I sought,
a piece from a collection that I feared had come to naught.
To them, this made the errand more compelling than their wage.
The loss of family history would cause most men to rage
The search went on so many years I thought it was in vain.
But then one day a horseman rode up through the pouring rain.
He said he’d found the missing piece and named the merchant’s price.
So overjoyed was I that I’d have even paid it twice.
Quite distant was the kingdom into which the rider went;
and by the time of his return, my patience was long spent.
But into my hand, at last, he finally placed the chalice.
I gave him a finder’s fee, for joy had sprung from malice.
From the legend I had learned the way to tap its power.
Using it, I took a drink right at the midnight hour.
Setting it upon the stand beside the bed, I slumbered.
Since my dreams would soon be real, my sleep was unencumbered.
***
When I awakened in the morning, many things had changed.
I woke to find my sleeping chamber had been rearranged.
Instead of drapes, exotic tapestries had now been hung.
And lavish were the bed sheets to which breathlessly I clung.
Opulence abounded in the bedroom’s every feature,
comforts seldom chanced upon by any human creature.
Unaware was I that all such splendor was essential.
I assumed the benefit was simply providential.
Swiftly, I discovered that my chalet had expanded.
Rooms had formed according to the force I now commanded.
I was not aware of my ambitions in this fashion,
but the chalice brought forth even my unspoken passion.
It seems my insecurities were far more than I knew.
Ambitions of which I was not aware were coming true.
But I perceived no threat in meeting my unknown desire.
And like a moth I circled ever closer to the fire.
It was almost like a game as I moved through my quarters.
Bearing so much treasure would have worn out many porters.
I’d never recognized such need for wealth within myself;
and yet, my fortune fairly spilled from every single shelf.
Like a child on Christmas Day, with such anticipation,
into each new room I peered with growing fascination.
Although all my needs as earl were met with satisfaction,
clearly I required a post that offered more attraction.
My new wardrobe hung within a room that just contained it.
I had not been pleased with my old clothes, although I feigned it.
What the village could produce was practically abasement
to the clothes I’d brought from home, as they needed replacement.
Those I’d purchased in the kingdom slowly were degrading.
Loath was I to pitch them as they just continued fading.
Seamstresses in So had tried to save my old attire,
since the cloth they used to make new clothes I found quite dire.
What material they had was hardly fit for wearing.
Though I’d faced unnumbered foes, I still was not that daring.
Such concerns were brought to naught as I observed with pleasure
all the garments I now had for industry and leisure.
Other rooms were larders full of foodstuffs most appealing,
far superior to that with which I had been dealing.
Magically, they seemed preserved in quantities quite ample,
warming to the touch each time I reached to take a sample.
In the kingdom there’d been little chance I’d face starvation.
But on the plateau, it was another situation.
I was not aware of just how much it made me troubled.
But I now had food to last a lifetime, even doubled.
I had nearly gotten used to being unattended.
With my placement there in So I knew those days were ended.
Truthfully, I had no wish for servants in my dwelling.
But there was one task for which the lack of them was telling.
Drawing water daily seemed a menial vocation.
Doing such a common chore had caused me great frustration.
But I found a magic well in still one more extension.
Easily the sweetest draughts were raised through this invention.
***
Moving toward the kitchen, I discerned the smell of cooking.
And I knew I’d found the one for whom I had been looking.
There she stood in flowing raiment, not in garments tattered.
But to have her in my house, her clothing hardly mattered.
She became aware that I was standing there observing.
Cautiously she came to me, like someone who was serving.
As I drew her to myself, she offered no resistance.
Nor did she oppose my kiss but offered no assistance.
Breaking fast together wasn’t quite what I’d projected.
But the need for dialogue had never been expected.
I explained, as best I could, our magic situation.
Seemingly, she took it in with little hesitation.
Gladly did I make her mine, and she was fully willing.
But compared to my desire, it was not quite fulfilling.
There was something out of place in every interaction.
But I could not understand the cause of the detraction.
Gradually, I came to see that she was only acting,
forced to play a role from which there could be no extracting.
She was not the woman to whom I’d become attracted.
Chaste that lady was, so this is not how she’d have acted.
She behaved as one enslaved, not one who held affection.
My unfinished fantasy could lend her no direction.
I had stripped her soul from her with my half-baked ambition,
all so she would nightly play our passionless rendition.
Day by day, I watched her fade, for I could not sustain her.
As I questioned my ambition, it could not maintain her.
She became so insubstantial I could see right through her,
all because, the truth be told, I never really knew her.
Such an awful sense of loss was not my expectation.
But there seemed no way out of our tragic situation.
Strangely, as I watched her fade, my love for her grew stronger,
and I knew I could not be her jailor any longer.
So intangible was she that I could not embrace her,
but so guilty did I feel that I could barely face her.
I told her that I could see no other resolution.
Her survival was dependent on our dissolution.
I saw both betrayal and relief in her expression.
As she turned to go, I felt the most profound depression.
Though she grew more solid with each step, they still were fated.
As she passed across the threshold, she disintegrated.
***
Questioning the locals, I searched the entire village.
From the way they looked at me, you’d think I’d come to pillage.
Vainly, I was hoping that her loss was an illusion.
But the people thought that I was faking my confusion.
They knew she was missing and that we had been together.
Clearly, they were not about to blame some magic weather.
They spoke out against me, for which I could hardly fault them.
All my explanations seemed at best to just insult them.
Truthfully, I’d never really thought of them as neighbors.
But the words they hurled at me were merciless as sabers.
Evidence against me fortunately was quite lacking.
I returned to my chalet to preempt their attacking.
All of my machines of war were aimed toward the valley.
Ill-prepared was I to thwart a local-driven rally.
Luckily the torchlight on my outer walls deterred them.
They could not approach unseen; I even overheard them.
Scarcely could I just believe my hopeless situation.
In the morning they would surely seek their vindication.
I had been just worthless, but now passionately hated.
In my fear I think I wished them all obliterated.
Little did I sleep that night, defensive plans devising.
But the town had fallen silent by the daystar’s rising.
Then I saw what fear had wrought, which I’d not been restraining.
Total ruin was everywhere, with no one yet remaining.
Nothing of the town of So escaped the devastation.
But it seemed like damage old, not recent ruination.
Actually, it looked like years had passed since its destruction,
matching strangely to the time of my first introduction.
There was nothing left to bury nor could I determine
if its people died or ran away like frightened vermin.
Optimistically, I chose to think that none had perished,
but the sole inhabitant whom I had truly cherished.
Such a bitter thought was hardly any consolation,
as I stood amid the oddly ancient desolation.
But companionship was all of which I was deficient.
To supply such need the chalice surely seemed sufficient.
Ere I went to bed that night, I wished for new companions,
as I walked the plateau’s edge and looked down in the canyons.
Crawling into bed I curled between the lavish pillows,
and was urged to slumber by the sighing of the willows.
***
As to where the group had come from, I was not instructed.
Maybe, for the purpose, they were actually constructed.
I knew better than to ask for needless information.
I was simply happy to receive their visitation.
Not a girl was in the group, although it did not matter.
Playing host, I served them foodstuffs heaped upon a platter.
My supply was endless, so my manner was quite gracious,
even though their appetites could best be called bodacious.
We spent days in revelry with liquor freely flowing.
Just what it amounted to; there is no way of knowing.
Every night we fell asleep exhausted from carousing.
In the morning we’d commence again upon arousing.
Numbed by so much alcohol, I’d no real estimation
if my need for friendship had achieved its vindication.
But I came to think that they were just there for the party,
that their true concern for me was anything but hearty.
We shared stories, jokes, and songs—but nothing consequential.
What seemed like amity was purely providential.
This was hammered home to me one night while we were drinking,
reinforcing everything I’d finally started thinking.
Seated near the fireplace, enjoying our libations,
we were in the middle of our nightly celebrations.
Suddenly an ember popped and set my clothes on fire.
My companions didn’t budge, although my plight was dire.
As I frantically disrobed, they just continued singing,
unconcerned about the flaming garments I was flinging.
None of them assisted me as I fought for survival.
But this was consistent with their mood since their arrival.
Friendship can’t be manufactured, purchased, or extracted.
There was nothing inconsistent in the way they acted.
After my abrupt ordeal I took my leave politely,
going out to take my stroll, a thing that I did nightly.
Wandering around the outskirts of my mournful mansion,
I took time to wish away its populous expansion.
Going back inside, I found my guests had all departed.
I was left lamenting for the process I had started.
Standing at the window, looking down into the valley,
I considered those I’d lost, and couldn’t gauge the tally.
Then I glimpsed a dragon; it was not imagination.
And I knew that I was looking at my own frustration.
***
I found that I’d grown thankful for the things I couldn’t change.
This insight so astounded me; it made me feel quite strange.
The presence of the distant mountains made me reassured.
Despite ambition’s reckless dreams, some things had still endured.
I missed the folks to whom I’d really mattered not the least,
the chance encounters in the outdoor markets that they leased.
Sometimes, quite unexpectedly, they’d treat me with disdain,
or bring delight by smiling at me through the pouring rain.
Not only had I inadvertently caused their demise,
I’d passed beyond the region within which could dwell surprise.
Everyone I chanced upon would do as I expected.
I could be destroyed by the emotions I projected.
The villagers had turned against me only as I feared,
for I saw little chance that I to them could be endeared.
Back in the kingdom I was liked and still maintained estate.
But that brought up a question that I feared to contemplate.
The legend didn’t tell me how the chalice came to be,
or if from its enchantment I could hope to be set free.
If I should leave it buried in the village and depart,
could I escape beyond the range of its abhorrent art?
What if its magic followed me wherever I did go?
I feared the seeds of death that my ambitions yet might sow.
If I had aspirations of somehow becoming king,
my going home could bring about the end of everything.
I would first have to make up some believable account,
explaining what it was that all my arms could not surmount.
To misreport the fate of So, I’d thus become a liar.
And all I loved was safer while bereft of my desire.
To think that I could not go home was more than I could bear.
I closed the window sash and turned away in deep despair.
Retiring to my bedroom, I advanced the datebook’s page,
and tried to go to sleep despite the roiling of my rage.
The chalice was the first thing that I saw when I awoke.
It still sat on the nightstand, but the room was filled with smoke.
I opened my front door upon a sight that made me moan.
My house now sat upon the edge of a volcano’s cone.
The town of So had changed into a chasm filled with fire.
Its lava and its pumice were my rage and my desire.
Racing back into the house, I grabbed the fabled chalice.
Then I hurled it down into that effigy of malice.
***
I cannot say what happened then; except, when I awoke,
my bedroom was no longer filled with opulence or smoke.
Although I wasn’t certain how I’d gotten back in bed,
no longer was the chalice on the nightstand by its head.
My eyes turned to the desktop where the datebook had been laid.
I scarcely could believe the page that in it was displayed.
It showed that I’d received the chalice just the prior day.
Had I somehow succeeded then in sending it away?
I heard a sound like horses drawing carts out in the lane.
I barely dressed; so keen was I its source to ascertain.
Erupting from my doorway, I dashed out into the street,
and nearly ran right into her whom I’d most hoped to meet.
The village stood before me, as did she whom I had lost.
I somehow had recovered all of my ambition’s cost.
As I met my beloved’s eyes, I asked, “Are you OK?”
The unexpected happened then upon that blessed day.
Within my frantic question, there was nothing but concern;
which, I now know, my lady fair was able to discern.
There was no hint of selfishness but only unfeigned care,
a quality that she well knew was dear as it was rare.
By this, her heart was turned to me with love beyond compare.
As I reached my ambition’s end, I found a dream to share.
The insight that I’d gained helped me to move beyond myself;
for when there’s love, who needs some chalice sitting on a shelf?
As to what became of it, I’ll have to leave you guessing;
although, if I really knew, I wouldn’t be confessing.
Beneath the village it may yet be buried in some nook.
But if you find yourself in So, I’d urge you not to look!
