


Young at heart
But
No mortal body could ever escape time’s grasp
He sat there
Near the crackling fire
The oaks raising to the heavens
Silence singing like a choir
A quiet man
Yes
Meek in stature
Strong in spirit
His emotions undisclosed
Face hard as stone
All around the flames
Light softly shone
Some dozed
Others waited to hear it
The Old Man’s hook captured
And
Pulled them into his quicksand
A story played on the man’s lips
He spun the characters
Tapestries weaving from the mind
Each sentence, each word
Was being refined
He spoke
To conquer is to
Take Control
Overcome and Adapt
To reach that insurmountable goal
But how can one conquer?
In a world
Where all want the glory
Success is measurable by the mind
That mind
Praising oneself
Bashing oneself
On a never ending climb
Pain is a prison
One in which all have paid time
The walls crumbling
The victor no longer confined
One must find within themselves
That drive
That glorious dive
Leading them to conquest
Where am I going?
From whence have I come?
A chorus, bright chorus
From the boldest of the young
The heart of a soldier
Must never be undone
Thoughts and emotions
Beat like a drum
Success is the mountain
The reward never plain
The hardships and chaos
Will surely remain
By the judgements of this cruel, untamed world
Time keeps moving so fast
The Hourglass
With only a few grains of sand left
Yet the conqueror moves faster
A wave
Impossible to see the top
The Doubt
Is as strong as the mountain of droplets
The Conqueror is perched waiting for the day to arrive
A sapling taking root
Our sapling
The forest will love
Given time
The Bells will be ringing
And the noise
Reaching up to the sky
On the wings of a dove
What glory!
Our glory
Our conqueror
Cannot
Will not
Should not
Survive
So it dives…
To uncharted depths
Its lungs cry out for breath
When the morning comes
All shall be done
But
Who could truly conquer without opposition?
There must be pain for gladness, suffering for joy
Please be alive…
Wake up little sapling
Drink water for your roots
The ocean surrounds you
What shall be the fruit?
Of the labors
That seized the conqueror
From day to night
The route of a conqueror
A journeyer
The heart-shattered
Broken from the harsh judgements
Built as the strongest wave
But
The hourglass is breaking
the man stopped
taking a
much needed
breath
the dive
Finished
john toronto
the conqueror's dive
BY John Toronto