Libraries: Poetry and Song Lyrics
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a poem i wrote in boredom that might intrest some
“Follow me,” he said, “and I’ll show you the way, into my land with darkness in day. Follow me,” he said, “to a land to be free, swim the deepest ocean, climb the tallest tree. Follow me,” he said, and follow I did, this man who images bestowed in my head.
“Follow me,” he’d lament, then say something more, something to lure to him people more. “Follow me,” he would say, “and I’ll show you the way, into my land with darkness in day, follow me,” he would say, and those words still haunt me today.
“Follow me,” he would say, then tell us his tale, of a land to which no ship could sail. A land to which no rider could ride, a land unreachable even to birds of flight.
We followed this man from village to town, the group always growing around him we found. “Follow me,” he would say, and follow we would, follow this man as far as we could.
And so, we followed him now, wondering, what treasures this land bestowed. Was it gold, or money, or greater treasures we seek? Or was it the land to place our retreat? Would we be able return someday? Would we be able, only the old man could say. Farther and farther as towns became few, where we were going, only he knew.
“How far?” some asked as we tread on no road. “is it worth it for this land to behold?”
But he said not a word, just lost in deep thought, when asked such a question, answer he’d not.
Still I followed him, lost in a herd, following every step, alone, unheard. Was he for real? Or just a mad man? Should I give up? Not now, not then.
Three days I have followed him now, many have turned back, to them he raised no brow. Fewer and we stand behind he, to those who gave up, he walked obliviously. Fewer and fewer until only stood I, a herd of one, the title’s mine.
A stone wall smooth as can be, the stone wall is where he lead me. Then muttered some word, Latin it did sound, then violently shook the ground. As soon as it started did stop the trembling, the wall, now split, for all I could see. Then said those two words did the man coldly. Those words still haunt, “follow me.”
Into the pass we treked him and me. Only us, for all I could see. We walked and we walked and we walked some more. Then in the distances I spied not one but two doors.
One had the word “home” and the other’s sign had fell. “Chose wisely, one trip, nothing else.”
Into paradise, or to my home town, this is what he had me pondering now. To a would paved with gold or a speck in nowhere? In to a land of happiness; or back to despair?
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