The Walk of Long Lost Ages by Martin Hanley
A mind quick to surrender forever sharp but unaware. Hidden by countless limitations, no mentor ever had time to care. A second chance was taken with clever rhyme and reason. The year passed by quickly, faded memories, for some, a forgotten treason.
Heritage she once hated like a wintry tide that flowed. Senseless insipid victories like a stealthy spiral beneath your nose. Never mediocre, she swore aloud before she wept alone. Tongues soon started wagging on the very day she left for home.
The walk of long-lost ages is like the blinking of an open eye. The wise sat still and listened as the weary stood and scanned the sky. The same old song still echoes far above the down below. The tower within the clock fell and crashed unto the driven snow.
© all rights reserved Martin Hanley Oct 12th 2014