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Apprentice of the Knight

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  • Apprentice of the Knight

    Apprentice of the knight, take up your sword
    And tear the self-doubt books to cakes of rice.
    Observe them thudding past the air--They crush
    The molehill and the mountain both. No more
    Do they exist within, without the mind.
    With tears and laughs and beasts alike you forged
    Ahead and fueled your aspirations bright.
    The unsheath’d knife, yes, child, your other hand--
    It’s loaded, cocked, and tarnished with the ink
    Of work you’ve done before. Have you control?
    Don’t fret, young one, for ‘t happens to us all.
    Remember inkwell blood you spilled, but do
    Clean off your sword and knife. Create anew
    What has not yet been born of your thin hand
    And breathe your life into the inkwell’s drain.
    Today I’ll tell a tale about a boy
    Who’s unlike both of us, and looked upon
    With kind discomfort or a stony gaze.
    Worse yet, no gaze at all was often met.
    The words the man did speak were sparse and clear
    As if they were too precious to discard.
    “Hi”, “Hallelujah” were most frequent on
    His tongue. I stared in wonder, questioned not
    Intelligence, as others clearly had.
    Perhaps he knows that which surpasses all
    Who swayed within, without the train car’s walls.
    Young one, take heed, consider all the might
    Lodged in the crevices of the mundane.
    Sweep wide your blade, sweep narrow your thin knife
    And you will find your hallelujah there.

  • #2
    I like your imagery, and the mystery you create.

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