Gather folks,
For I have a libel, very intriguing,
A tale, of how,
I brought upon myself all the worldly miseries.
The tenor, blithe, dynamic, plush,
a heaven of sorts,
Existence, blessed,
breeding, privileged,
inclination, untroubled;
Contented, smug.
But what is it that my gaze captures?
A little saunter away.
Isn't the demesne a shade more viridscent?
Doesn't the sun shine brighter?
Doesn't the Adam's ale relish more sweeter?
Aren't the florets livelier?
Aren't the clouds fluccoser?
My happy place, isn't that happy afterall?
What if...? What if...?
And a chiliad more what ifs materialize.
What if, I strive harder, to get to that side?
The greener, vivid, jovial side.
And I loose myself.
As I find cognizance in my virtue, of the fine line,
The fine line between, hard work and sisyphean graftation,
I loose myself, over and over again.
My once paradise,
Now brimmed with shades of grey.
Sombre, turbulent, dismal, perturbing.
With a virulent desire etched in my soul,
I persist.
When I near the pastoral axis,
after the supposed striving,
I see a box.
Placed on a pedestal, an opined pedestal of apocryphal importance.
It sat haughty, proud.
On an inspection too close,
bejeweled were it's fringes.
It stirred something within me;
A feeling, similar to Eve's.
The desire to touch the forbidden,
the desire to fondle the shimmer.
And upon my prophesied arrival,
A false sense of serenity embraced me.
Every cerulean thread in my anatomy, ebbing,
Every being of my existence, tingling,
to open the casket.
And I open it,
all deadliest appalls unleashed;
ictus, trauma, perfidy, desertion, pique,
rout me.
I syncope, as a militant siesta embosomes me.
As aurora seeks me,
I wake up to a perception, my former paradise,
now's illusory.
The verdurous entente, just a facade,
my amour propre's feign, putting my temptations to scrutiny, temptations, that I gave in to,
and opened my Pandora's box,
who's compendiums quaffed me.
Vale.
～
Hi readers!
So, for a little background, I'd like to familiarise y'all with this tale, from Greek mythology, a lot of you might know of it, but for those who don't, read on, Zeus, the king of god's, ordered Hephaestus to create the first human woman out of soil and water. Each god gave the woman a gift: Athena gave her wisdom, Aphrodite beauty, Hermes deviousness and so on. They named her Pandora (meaning “all gifts” in Greek). Zeus gave Pandora a jar, warning her not to open it under any circumstances and sent her to Prometheus’ brother, Epimetheus. Prometheus had warned his brother not to accept any gifts from Zeus. However, Epimetheus accepted Pandora who, although tried hard to resist the temptation, opened the jar and released all evils upon the world. Hatred, war, death, hunger, sickness.
So, what I've tried to do, is, to draw a parallel, between this tale and our lives, how we sometimes feel inferior, feel like we have to reach greater heights, achieve bigger things, we give in to our temptations, and end up opening our own Pandora's Boxes, which leaves us tired and spent. I'm not against "Hard work", it's just, that I feel, at times, we need to slow down and give our actions a thought, recuperate, then get back to work, cause we have dreams to fulfill! That's that! Thanks for reading! Also comment about a Greek mythology tale that took you by surprise or intrigued you!
Till next time, Ciao!!
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DWAM
Poetry"Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go...
