Portrait of a Gravedigger
written by: huntersjames
The hero’s choice, subservience to a goal,
Exchanging all confined to cell by talent,
In return, conquest, mastery, your own hill.
With certain legacy, few can choose to look away,
Broken chains used to bind, re-forged to crown such courage.
The saint is called, overwhelmed by love, awed by God.
Some called once, others more, some say ego, others grace.
Promised purity, poverty too, for wealth eternal,
Freedom proxied to the highest power,
Commitment steals the heart, its ransom is your faith.
The artist born in to another world
Gripped by genius, disguised as madness
Driven to mine each second for the treasure of time.
The deal, bending light’s desire to refine imagination
Mold creation new and glaze in worship’s fire.
You and I, we lay our tracks each side by side
To build a path that can’t be turned
Future cast each day as we uncaring play
Until the day we waken to the whistle of panic’s scream
Buried alive we clutch our tickets, these rails have found their end.
done a lot of things,
some more worthwhile than others,
now I'm doin this
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