in his ambitions he sought to conceal something
something beautiful?
something disgusting?
for what need of demons grief and angels pity
he did not know,
he promised his self as eyes turned skyward that
all was going to be under his own device
and so too by his own terms he planned to reveal it.
as light cast a shadow on the ground
he became in doubt of himself
and too surrendering his idea became
impossible.
his ego became more in debt to a lie
that had once made gravity before the
sudden swell of sunlight captured its impossible
inaccuracy
his lie was a fight in time, a burden of impossible
hardship,
so morals were faded and time was discarded
and he drifted, now though, not knowing gravity or sunlight
nor rain, nor flowers, nor the whisper of the wayward wind
and so he left hope at his feet
left his hopes at the hill,
the hill that had seen the days of rain, and shine,
the hill that had the same soil he once embodied
what happened after that
im not sure anyone knows
not even our ill fated hero