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A Girl of Mystery

She always amazed
in her abilities and
command, over
discerning the
cautionary tale.

She’s the only person I’d ever
known, who could blink and also care.

She had this knack of understanding,
the difference between shadows that
lurk and shadows that form

As is often the case with the shape of things yet to appear, invisible to the mind, is often only what is able to be seen through the eyes, or perhaps a scent is acknowledged, offering a sensation of how the thing would eventually come to be known, yet she, can illustrate an item, that has yet to become, where, strangely enough, once this item does take form, it’s eerily representative of the description she previously had listed forth.

She fostered much chagrin
from jaded tongues and envied eyes.
she chafed the system, blurred the
seams, unlocked potential and riled
those who resisted change

I heard a story, as is all that could be expected,
about this mysterious woman, living in a grass
hut, and the villagers all believed it to be the
greatest form of architecture they’d ever seen,
great creator they called her, nodding only as she passed by.

I read a tale, regarding a sly maneuver forty
floors above the sprawling streets below, where,
apparently, a great many riches were pilfered from
a man which the majority of things owned, were not,
nor never could, be conceded to as being his alone.

There is a shaman in some small subservient nation, where
sand and dust are the greatest of commodities. Nightly the tribe,
do as they’ve done for centuries, sit beside the blazing fire, in a circle,
breathing in the flame to lung. It is said such activities purge away the demons clinging to the sides of lungs. Primitive cocktails are then taken in, where hallucinatory insights come as they choose to be, free, and share they shall, with every member of their community.

There is a tale, the shaman told, that made its way to the modern world. It’s about a strange beauty that surfaced from beneath the waves—she slowly crept into the jungle’s brush, only to evade the greatest tracker’s sent to watch—and it is said, that ever since such a day, the animals, both attract to the place she rests, and readily try their best to escape from it.

If only I hadn’t witnessed what I had, with these very eyes—I would love to believe, and easily could be swayed, into substituting the girl I knew, for the heroine in any or all of these modern legends told.

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About hobgoblin2011

I'm a poet and aspiring screenwriter/songwriter with a passion for film, art, photography, philosophy and heavy metal. I love reading, mainly non-fiction, comic books, graphic novels, myth and reference. Family always comes first for me. I'm a proud father to two wonderful pups and two curious cats. I'm also a glutton for punishment aka the life of being a diehard Buffalo Bills and Sabres fan.

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