How simply does one become a god? To gain rightful omniscience and see the world for what it is? To know the world as it should be? I bring to you a story of a boy whose choice to become a man started with a devastatingly cold shower, one that kickstarted his dead heart and brought the warmth back to his chest. There is nothing but the light within him now.
Primogeniture
The cards are not so black and white
like pictures in a movie,
but blue and black and purple too
like fields of flowers,
oh so new.
The dice are set
upon a table.
As they roll,
stuck up on the gable
are seen so many heads
missing but a label.
Gamble, gamble, gamble, ramble…
A man so deeply cut
running through the bramble.
Proprietors chase
at fervent pace
only for so to
win, against you,
that race.
Pitter patter on the pond.
Rain drops
and dew drops
flit upon a single little palm frond.
Nearing the beach,
a god i so beseech,
to help me in my time of need.
I am ignored,
for it is time
for me to accede.
This firstborn son
becomes The Sun.
Poems by Sam 