the lost man chronicles
the daily chronicle


in a small existence

sometimes in a small existence,
we live a bigger life.

so take the fortune and fame
that fate has shun for me,
as long as the trespasses are for my recollection alone.

Leave any due applause to the stage
or upon the throne of resounding echoes in the theater
For if ever accolades my work were to engage,
I would prefer they fell sibilantly to the refuge of mine meter.

There the cloak of words of mind
could mend
those thoughts I call my own.

And within all discretion due,
it is with the ink and dagger
That I pursue— to penetrate
The recesses of your heart.

I will have lived a fruitful life,
if my strange avocations
stand sans ovation,
to ode themselves,
and see their own oats they have sown.

As Odysseus my wishes are to wander
To hear the song of the siren's sweet surrender
But to always come home.




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