The gulf
Confusion reigns. The (dog's) tail curiosly seems closer than ever and yet at the same time farthest than its ever been. It bays at the moon. Is that the moon smiling back? or is it an illusion? Shes mine. yet I know I cant ever have her. All along I knew.Like Daedalus, I fashion wings made of wax. Yet like icarus I forget (my own) admonitions. I seek the sun and the heavens. Hubris disguised as hope. I am the father and the son. The son will be gone, the father will remain to mourn. Inevitable. The momentary soaring remaines exhiliarating. The warnings, though echo faintly in my ears. Will my victory be pyrrhic?. Will the dog ever catch its tail? Can the gulf be bridged. A story of the Cup, a lip and a certain miss.
-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra
2 Comments:
Creative writing contest ... http://www.unisun4writers.com/competition2006.html ... if you're interested :).
the tail does not want to be caught. ever think of that?
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