Defiant deafeningly grumbling giant empty old man foolparaded through the odd street cursing at the sky, regrettinghis life now lived, served, done, finished, ruled.Wobbling down to the park bench, a warm boy hoping, curious, askingsaid, "Oh sad sir, how would you rather it be?"Then arose from the elder a smile; for but a glimpse of time you could seehow things were supposed to exist, persist, while he stayed here retired.He began to describe hope, choice, youth and fulfilled desires.He replied, "I'd be young and my life's love resting in my arms,me supported by a rock by the side of a waterfall.Warm rock, beauty seen, she held, mine; this, my boy, is all!"The boy, his words accentuated, exclaimed, "You can have it then!"There forth to a new universe, the old man was sent.Now she, in his arms, was there, in flesh,alive instead of perishing young—a nurse in the war.At first, the man, amazed, vowed to give the boy recompense.But his joy was ill-founded, wrong to the core.For with her alive the image, the fantasy of her, became tainted, deadThus it is said: When a man's dreams flee, then begins his fall.Trickling, that which was the waterfall left the waterfall.
