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Naught but ash
Watch the pages as they flutter by,
naught but weightless ash in the breeze.
The text of legends and history
nothing but a faint smeared memory.
Come my brethren, throw the quills aside!
watch the flames consume our lives,
consume our passions and love,
the diligent work burning passionately.
The black and white butterflies flutter by,
delicate wings brushing gently, softly,
never lingering on a steadfast course,
the beauty forever imprinted in the mind.
Gaze now, as our words fly to ash,
burning the books we loved, cherished.
The butterflies no more, delicacy forgotten,
all left behind for marble statues.
Beauty behold the smooth stone men,
no patience left to wait for butterflies,
no time left to cherish the quill,
all left now to turn to naught but ash.
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Comments
Arbiter K Says:
The feeling is mutual. I've seen many writers (including myself) get knocked away by some porn doodle of some popular anime/manga. It pissed me off to no end when my shining day on front page (long ago) was knocked short to some doodle of nude-whatever!
Bah, I better shut up....I hate how writers are taking backseat here and other places.
In depth comment to follow... after fapping.
brb.
DrThallium Says:
Its great to see your writing again, Mara. :) I really enjoy reading it. I do commiserate with your situation in your writing, too. Things seem to be changing, and appreciation for things that were once held paramount in society seem to be shifting, and not in ways we like them to.
In all honesty, I am probably training to be an anacronism. I don't find lots of young people going to symphony concerts, so I wonder if we are coming to the end of the symphonic concert to make way for the rock concert.