December 4, 2020
The final chapter of The Retelling of an Old Tale.
A tender-heart
She does seek.
Words of cunning
Does she speak–
To poison the mind
Against the soul—enmity
Is her goal.
And so, the tale of
Andúil’s Sorrow
Ever must be told;
Take care tender-heart, lest ye forget, and
Upon you should
Her addiction take hold…
In all my ways
She did I desire,
So within my mind was kindled a fire–
That burned my very senses
In an all
Consuming blaze–
So that my defenses were destroyed
For the length of my days…
Oh Andúil’s sorrow!
Her addiction will never appease
Empty promises of pleasure
Only ever a tease
To keep the tender-hearted
Ever craving her dis-ease!
And so
One by one,
They return to Andúil
Begging on their scabby knees;
The tender-hearted, hooked and hollow eyed demand, “You must help us…” (and with a pitiful cry) “…please.”
And to the one who lost, yet overcame
No longer to be be sold,
Real compassion turns
Within
The
Self–
A new tale
Now be told:
Of the battle betwixt mind and soul–
And of the Lion-hearted;
Deep within the fragile self,
Compassion’s seat–
A true stronghold—never again to be parted.
The end.
–NZain
Thank you for journeying with me on this tale of hope and the human condition.
May these words inspire beauty, compassion and hope.
All Was Emptiness, Except For My Own Self.
Growing Up... 