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TITLE: Polished Stone By Mary Bryant 12/28/04 |
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Polished Stone
Many years ago
a child was born.
He was gifted with knowledge
All was easily learned.
He felt the great power to
Be above everyone else,
And decided he needed no one
But to rely on only himself.
As he grew up he found
he was a prodigy
But never did he ask or wonder
How he came to be
He did not ever look
up from himself
For he felt he was The One,
higher than anyone else.
What goals were
Anticipated on and or wished
They all became fame for him
Instant accomplishments
All to soon he was older
But still non the wise
His riches helped somewhat
and couldn’t help him survive
He felt the greatest goal in life
Was one that he could do
How to live and cheat Death
He didn’t have a clue
The Devil appeared and
Offered him a challenge
Would give up of ‘himself’
And offer it as balance?
Within an instant
The deal was made
The man felt he was smart
And would bypass his own grave
But the balance he offered
Was his very own soul
What he considered useless
To him, was now gone
This man never paused
To think at any given time
Of one day where he would
Have to be laid down
The man who thought that he was smart
And left the dying to others
Never dreamed of this fine day
Of the Devil so cold hearted
The Word that was before him
Was not ever heard or seen
For he felt he didn’t need it as
He was his own rigthous king
The man now dearly departed
Is truly on his own
for he lies buried all by himself
Under …
Polished Stone
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