The whispers of legacy

I am

nothing more

than

me.

Aspirational notions

of

being more

than potential

in search of

providential spark.

Blinded to sighted –

I am

the

elemental forces

of you

profusely searching

but never

finding

that which beckons

from the empyrean heights.

That glory

linked to stories

long ago –

not hidden or scattered

but rather –

assembled

for a later date

where forged fates

could elucidate

the who.

The wages

tendered

to the laborers

of legacy

call out –

not unlike

a mirror that

beckons

one to gaze upon

their visage…

Heeding the summons

to

see

you

in –

Me… Them… Us..

And

the silence is

deafening.

Indefatigably so,

forging ahead

because it was

decreed.

We

the children

of

those

who refused to die.

image

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