I was an idea, a thought drifting in empty space, that slowly became the light imagined. The darkness was pacified by my idle soul, that it became my flesh and bone.
When I sang my first song the world listened. The rustling leaves mourned for my demise and the moon bore witness to whatever woe lie awake in my path. Now, I walk the steps my Past once trailed.
I nimble at the stairs eager not to falter. For my faults are theirs and theirs are mine.
I am a dynasty.
My bones are the halls of my ancestors and my eyes are the windows to their souls. I see through them and they see through me. In me, I bear a piece of their life. And although dead, they live through me.I have become their new beginning, the sun shining for their future.
I feel their call for glory, that someday I will become the plethora of jewels that would glint for them throughout history.
I will become a conduit for their lost passions.
Their soliloquy that was never uttered.
Their song never sung.
Their longing never satisfied.
And that someday, I will become their echo, the voice that would be heard for centuries.
