Make me a ring so I can slip through the crowds silent and unseen he asked the Dwarves. For weeks. Make me a ring that will let me go where I wish, quiet as love, as regret. He asked week after week after week. Finally, they called him to the forge. We have heard your petition, and they locked the veil on him, and he slips through the crowd silent and unseen.
Creepy, and quite well-done.ReplyDelete
Very poetic. Good work!ReplyDelete
This one goes in the nightmare file.ReplyDelete
Nice. A departure from your usual approach: I like it!ReplyDelete
Thanks very much everybody.ReplyDelete
This strikes me not so much as nightmarish as a sad parable. He becomes God--omnipresent, mute and hungry.ReplyDelete
Hey, marcus! good to hear from you. Yeah, I like to think it has fruitful ambiguity. Maybe he wanted what he got, maybe he did until he got it, maybe he never wanted that. Probably a mixture.ReplyDelete