A light coat of dew layers the wire grass.
The night is young, and Autumn is turning cold.
The ancestors sit up in the firmament like a counsel of those past.
Their day is no more, yet their light shines on. Bold.
In my mind I stand on trial, hoping for a verdict at last.
Their silence, worse than a guilty sentence, truth be told.
Almost feeling alone, accompanied only by my shadow cast.
Then at a glance, at last! A shooting star, shimmering in gold.
The ancestors have spoken, there's fortune in tokens. Along the path so vast.
Tread carefully, they warn... for the fool chooses the glimmering road.
That night in a dream, a test it should seem, a lesson I'd have to learn fast.
Ancestral maps with a fork in the road, to Sol, or to Sold...
I call for Thoth, seeking wisdom and guidance. Which way should I go, I ask.
"It's up to "u"..." he said as he vanish. Then Legba appeared. Arms fold.
"Are you an alchemist?" he asked. "If so, is that not the task?"
I awoken confused, which way should I choose? Confidence, not well bode.
Walked to a mirror. IT'S "U", I exclaimed. Once hidden because of a mask.
A shooting star lives on, I smiled. My so(u)l, not yet sold.
Once drunk in ignorance; broken and mad. I've now tossed the flask.
A fool's imitation that rusted me old. Now I've gone from lead to gold.
About the Creator
Will House
I lost my voice while on my journey. I seek to win it back. I hope that my words help those who are going through their own trials. The art of storytelling has been around since the dawn of time, and still lives on. Here are some of my own.
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