storytellerWe'd wandered one daystoryteller by KlNG-CRAB
to where the cherubic ambitions could be found,
nestled in the bosom of the earth.
and watered the barren rows with our impurest,
The trudge home was empty,
and every walk a trudge, from then on.
The clouds stirred,
but were waved off - we had already,
too much rain, and no seeds sowed in need.
So we rusted the gates of old-Eden instead,
and shook it with our own thunder as we watched you
stand in the field of dreams,
and reap from its meadows sprouts and towering flowers alike.
And from their fruiting bodies,
you fashioned a liar's throne, and crown of thorns -
so dull, so menial.
And you sat down, mind ready
but not open; you wrote in the shit-stained, reluctant paper -
"I am the storyteller."
And you were so pleased,
so disgustingly pleased.