06-19-2017, 02:28 PM
This Life is Fated
a poem by zenith
Today is a special day, there is a game they must all play.
To avoid such a day, there is no way, so do not try to get away.
Somber faces hail from many places,
they leave behind their cases, none may harbor love or hate to receive the graces.
They are each given a special gift, a sort of magic makeshift.
But their time with such power is swift, before the magic the fairy’s do lift.
To Tephra’s volcano they must all go,
into the magma one they must throw, if they wish their prosperity to grow.
For the sacrifice to count, the volcano he or she must mount,
willingness being paramount.
Soon they are all gathered, some tattered and some lathered,
One life among them at imminent hazard. A fairy speaks and the silence is shattered.
“Place your mark upon the one, a mark which cannot be undone.”
the marking has begun, a way discern the sacrifice from everyone.
Of marks some have four, and some have more
But Zenith has the most.
His heart is sinking, but he is not blinking.
His courage is not shrinking, to evade this would be wishful thinking.
He has yet to give his mark.
He casts his vote without remark, it appears on his own brow like a morbid birthmark.
He begins to fly, and hovers above the volcanos hungry, hot, red eye.
There are many he wishes to bid goodbye, but his eyes remain dry.
The others, they are relieved, maybe one or two are grieved,
but the sacrifice has nearly been achieved, and in its power they all believed.
So Zenith boldly meets his fate, and drops from the sky without much wait.
His bravery they will not debate, when he reaches heaven’s gate.
The others, they sigh and dissipate, happy they did not have to participate
Zenith, he does suffocate, And the fairy who is there to officiate
Allows everyone else to go home.