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Young at heart 


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 


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


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



                            Will not 

                                                     Should not 


                                                                                                                                      So it dives…









To uncharted depths

Its lungs cry out for breath

When the morning comes

All shall be done



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


The hourglass is breaking




the man stopped

taking a

much needed



the dive 



john toronto

the conqueror's dive

BY John Toronto


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