Once upon a time, so the story starts,
A divided time in minds and in hearts,
We, by rote, played little parts,
In a cosmic tragedy.
Then there was a world virtual
Where they lusted for forbidden virtu
Among the first of many meta-places
There we moved, and we had faces,
That were made of digital.
But we don't live there any more,
It's part of history,
Part of now, don't you see
It what was once a seed,
And now is tree.
It what was once a flower,
And now is field of blossoms.
It was filled with crowding slew,
Who sought it's pleasures
And by a few,
who mined its treasures,
That's what they do.
It was the only way they knew.
In this newling place, by kismet kissed
There was an woman who was a writer,
And words created her antagonist,
Who through his pain brought her terror.
And they locked in petty war.
But lust and fear they are such engines,
Of too many beginnings to mention,
They forgot what would come before.
And they' live forever more.
A song over lethe's silent roar.
Thus began a stranger odyssey,
Turned by supple hand that is more than destiny,
The shapes our ends as she will,
Rough hewn though are until…
And what happened you will see.
So the tale is told,
So new and yet now old,
How love for pretty pennies is seldom sold,
How dreams are born and then they must fold.
And who am I?
I was there, then,
I am there now,
your humble narrator...
a cousin to Virgil.
Attending to my vigil,
of those who sigh,
and those who cry,
and yet must try
to rise again and soar.
That is what we have in store,
There really isn't any more.