The following's copyrights are waved for electronic text only. Any printed media versions of all or part is a violation of copyright law. Duplication of this text by electronic means is restricted to distribution with READDX (Scandere Reader) as the primary viewer, even in such cases where this program is not compatible with other (non PC compatible) systems. The purpose of this distribution is to demonstrate attributes of the above mentioned program with regards to certain types of literature. pentacle By Jared P. DuBois (c) Copyright 1990, 94 Jared P. DuBois Contents Part 1 - Starry-eyed and Boisterous - Plateau - The Imposter - Never have I lived - Outgrown Innocence - Temporarily Occupied - In My prime - Regrets - To Wit - Now is the time - Aimed to Wander - What was then - Contemplating Freedom Part 2 - Waiting - My Country - Distance Closes In - Askance Anew - Waking - How Tastes Truth - Ever unexpectedly, joy - Every Word - Time Again - Tomorrow - In Ignorance - The Sun - Where within deceit Part 3 -Falling through time -Distant Shores -Vestabur (Short Version) Part 1 Starry-eyed and Boisterous Starry-eyed and boisterous I soar higher than my imagination flies eagerly meeting heavenly surprises before my tottering rationale and reasonings are again able to catch up with me Without a net I glide ever higher without fear of ever again falling below for fall I shall and fall I shall soon as no bird or man can escape the dirt which commands thee and me to return home Plummeting is the only return left for me as I have been away too long to long retain the life of those bound to the ground solid and stoic yet not without its advantages such as never going beyond reaching safe returns So soar I shall in my final few days forever reaching after what is and isn't there in the mists of clouds of mystery and wonder rolling over the world that was never really mine as seen from above in bewilderment and awe The Imposter Deftly weaving fact with fiction, the charlatan spins a myth to life filling the need for fools to be fooled enthralling those who long for mystique with a tale more vivid than truth itself Pulling the many away from light of day he entertains them in his twilight world where shadows and that which casts them meet, where one can forever take with none being taken, and fortune and fate await the unfaithful When sweeter yet comes the lies over bitter truths the deceiver himself becomes a sheep within the herd being swept along by tinder boxes of tarnished dreams beaconing to the many to cherish false hopes before plunging off the cliffs of denial at the obvious From the graves rise all the victims of self deception yet the soul of the imposter lies nowhere to be found, so artful was he at convincing all eyes they did not see with the vision needed to surmount the edges convolux that he saw not himself by them nor they he by any morsel of the truth Outgrown Innocence Damned are they who damn us thus wreaking havoc on our tranquil worlds destroying the lives and the minds of all those who cannot successfully oppose or accept them while making us who can and do accept them share the guilt of their bloody deeds Standing still, looking the other way, busying ourselves with our lives and children, none of these things can absolve us of the perpetuation of injustice and brutal viciousness inherent in every facet of our 'peaceful' societies for each part makes possible each atrocity Survival but at what cost we wonder while each day learning how high that cost climbs for knowledge brings only more responsibilities to be shunned if we are to continue on and prosper in an ever more arid and poisonous environment killing all those whose lives possess real value In My Prime I see myself in my minds eye in my youth stout and strong and in my prime too untamed and too untried not to think that all the world could be bent towards my will by my pride Wary now, I seldom wander to find fulfillment of futile goals lying ever yonder yet in my heart and in my dreams I am still a fool eagerly awaiting opportunity to cast away my wisdom if sorrow it means Is ignorance bliss, I wonder debating whether incremental time is some cosmic blunder for when age brings us acquiescence for lessening roles in lesser ambitions we still believe we are more and have more as we lose faith in our essence To Wit Yea, how the tables become turned by the clever ones deftly defying criticism for the abuses or misuses of their powers by exalting the common man who succeeded in helping others near or during their rein thus 'proving' that goodness always flourishes and those who cannot see it are blind Shies, the contemptuous praises be as the praiseworthy are owed their acclamation to the very perpetrators whose life long wrongs they sought with their very lives to undue, fated to have the enemies of their passions eulogize to all their struggles and erst putting it in a perspective void of truth Better they be not to be named or known than to have their virtues so valiantly to be sung when hence the very meanings they bestow become tangled in minds by subversive retellings and having their chaste deeds done for good and all used to make good men doubt their own good will removing aspersions aimed at more obvious targets Aimed to Wander Be it poetic justice that they who give freely and ask for nothing should receive nothing enduring greater pains and paler pleasures Causes of dissention so rigorously demeaning of trust break the back of that which fosters them for meaningless is he who rebels once all the tyrants lay dead Marks of virtue show not upon the brow of he who lies buried in his work for rare is that he is even to been seen and rarer still to be heard Dead is that man who loses himself so completely into his quests he leaves no space to compass what deeds may survive many a fortnight and attain relevancy Plateau I stand in the same place in the same body with only a few memories added or lost and though nothing here is visibly different, nothing here to me looks at all the same A few opinions changed can change entire outlooks as mine is not what it was, lest not what I remember it to be Values added and naive buffoonery lost convince me that what is lost has nothing over that which is gained as maturity carries with it ingrained superiority saving me from feeling now I am tomorrow's ignoramus Standing still yet in the midst of my life as it was drives home the fact that I see not with the same eyes nor shall simple pleasures and simpler notions of purpose again stall my timeless voyage into that elusive eternal beyond Never have I lived Never have I lived strange as that is to say yet never have I given myself completely over to circumstance and the happenings I endure detachedly in a somewhat off-handed abstract way I have cried and endure heartache immeasurable so to this misfortune I am indebted for giving me what little vissitudes of life have I but never would I dare romanticize this or life itself for if pain is all that is real then reality is duly overrated Can the unliving die or have they any way to know when it comes or how it is any different than bidding ones time waiting for its arrival not out of hope nor longing nor anger at the life which makes one curious enough to live and recompentant enough to die Temporarily Occupied In an unwashed somewhat opaque window a vacancy sign dangles as if anyone really cares for out on the windswept streets of this dusty dingy little town it was a might rare when anyone cared to stay awhile Yet even the most unlikely events will someday happen and one day one particular woman decided she needed one of those unwanted rooms which waited day after day in vain to serve any purpose other than taking up space gathering dust The immensity of Texas looms larger ever yet when viewed from a room only slightly bigger than closets and such was her sight as she awoke the very next day to find herself where so few had longed to be With an energy that seemed greatly out of place there she bounded through her morning routine zestfully eager to broach upon a new life in a town more comfortable with slow death languishing in the loss of industry, its youth, and interest Though the spirit of the town was gravely ill this deterred that young woman not one single bit as she made haste to find the saloon and declare to the owner its stark void of a singer as beautiful and talented as she said of she Having had her perform and seeing nothing new he declined her offer with another one of his own, that of waiting on tables paying barely minimum wage plus a percentage of her tips less what he kept himself In too mean a disposition to refute his offer entirely she accepted given the chance she could one day perform before what here passed for a crowd in a corner saloon where no one came except when passing through save they who called it home The regulars at that place were anything but as each seemed a character frozen from another time as a partial list included the likes of an aged gangster from prohibition, a box toting peddler of old, and a gypsy complete with ball It was there the young siren came to be day to day serving drinks to those who often wished to be elsewhere, she included though on this fact she knew better than to let her mind dwell while doing her best to do what little was expected of her On a busy night comprised of all of fifteen people the owner gave her the chance to perform her songs from a slightly out of tune piano there for the occasional drunkard to bang out a few poorly sung half-forgotten drinking songs With a voice too fine for such a rough crowd as the rowdies who dominate the place every Saturday night, the lilting melody of true harmony was drowned out by cat calls and jests which shook the very core of her unflinching fortitude With her spirit dimmed as bleak as her surroundings she cried her heart out in that tiny lifeless hotel room lit momentarily by the vigor of youth driven to pursue necessary dreams, hoping to rise above those personal straits surrounding them Again empty the next day, the room was cleaned now ready to begin that long wait for a tenant to seek what little recompense that such a barren room has to offer set in the middle of whatever circumstances one finds oneself Regrets Looking back you say 'Hey, things might have gone another way', but could they or should they you wonder aloud none to proud of having allowed the tragedy you see by hiding or siding with those whose clothes tell all that anyone needs to hear Listening still until the thrill becomes a chill you know that unless success is vested upon the best this world has not any pearls to twirl nor any freedom to hold Holding yet to your regrets you forget your mind finds only the times you failed under the pale light of day to say what of then only to beget again those sorrows which you so justly feel Giving way to the tide of lost pride to yourself you confide that nothing can hide your shame now aflame too tempting to tame yet through your blaze's haze you now gaze upon that dawn of knowing and growing while unknowingly sowing those seeds beneath your feet upon which you shall reap that heap of goodness remorse brings to life Now is the time Now is the time which threatens us all, threatens to destroy the spirit within Man's soul, poisoned by the raw bestiality unleashed dished out to mankind and dished out by mankind for despite all that we have and have done we have not yet risen above indiscriminate vengeance wrought because we suffer greater still yet and only seemed destined to suffer ever more Lest we see all hope lain bare what reason have we not to pray the worst, not to wish that this vicious vile end nearing bests the eternal war without and within us for no victory or loss can ever vanquish our heartfelt desire to at last enjoy peace grating sorely against the coarseness of our predestined battles against our own nature In the depths of our fears and angers where the dank acrid air suffocates all joy, may we pause to feel deep within our bones that though life may no longer be worth living we live still yet and still yet we dare proclaim to the universe that we know better how life should be and how good we can be if ever again we regain the means to make it so What was then Looking back on life who'd have ever thought that I would be to say what it was if I am not now that the fullest sense of me exists not or in some other way Was it really real I feel I cannot know if I am to be what I've become and master this new means to grow as unfamiliar to me as I to myself wondering if my past and future can live as one Can meaning exist without facts for those facts upon which I have relied to tell me what and who I've been exist not to me now if ever they lived and died and if they never lived at all, then neither did I yet somehow I am and maybe though not in me, in someone them Contemplating Freedom Wondering where wistfulness went my mind briefly yet sagaciously moves to a time when I thought not of myself before doing and maybe, before being letting not preconception deny experience Why is it now inconceivable to me to stand naked on the roof beneath the stars, to run gaily through the fields rolling with life and not think myself an ass for loving life so much as to engage in harmless foolish fun Where what becomes what for and why not why is where who I have come to be has since lost me in the trees whose protective leaves let no one see the boy inside the man, the girl behind the woman, loving what little spontaneity we're still graciously allowed The constraints are mine to have or have not and respect the invisible instigation to keep hold, to keep in check that urge to burst out laughing whenever we feel we've stepped into the absurd yet absurdity lies at the heart of all around us only now sorrow has replaced the joy Part 2 Waiting Waiting for the perfect moment when all of the stars align and rapture lies only just behind that moment creeping up slowly from the soul up into the mind Waiting while thousands pass before you though you are blind seeing only what is yet to come, seeing only that some-other time which you might never live to find Waiting while wondering why you wait to live but not to die leaving all of the living left behind walking through today seeing only tomorrow with yesterday's dreams still driving your eyes Waiting without even knowing or knowing but not caring, you die each day a thousand deaths, a thousand lies for perfection lay in each hour, each minute with only your conception of it to give it its disguise Distance Closes In Distance closes in and horizons once seemingly endless become known, and being known, uninteresting as the playpen to the room, the room to the yard, the yard to the street, ad infinitum The planet, being known thus becomes to small to frame us so we search out new limits to our view and overlook the unknowns at home in our cities, our streets, in our peoples, and in ourselves Infinity itself collapses under the weight of impressive stares as if to say what else can I do, what more can I give and we ourselves, not knowing, merely shrug and walk away saying we only thought there'd be more Seeking to know yet with knowing, eventually disappointed wondering why at all it is ever so important to know though we know without need to learn with truth we may still live in a cage, a playpen, but it becomes our own Waking Wherever went the mystery upon waking each new day enthralled by want and wonder and fear and apprehension moved to tears, then to bliss, then back again as if each were one and the same Clutching at the past for clues as to what might go wrong or right today, daring to court disappointment, hoping against hope to hope yet again for who or what is to say what is hopeless when life itself is begun in dreams Again alive the umpteenth thousandth time you always wake to familiar surroundings and even strangers hold fewer surprises, not daring life for you know life too well, holding fast to the civilist of paths and leaving the wilderness to the wood Yet life is not to be bargained with or upon and false securities inevitably shatter for the dangerousness, the uncertainty must prevail for only they hold claim upon tomorrow's tomorrow and with them whatever blessings go for us to know would be to rob our dreams Ever unexpectedly, joy Without the fire in the belly, the gleam in the eye, the pensiveness of the mind driving me ever to new heights I revel in the quietude seeking to master the sublime Ever unexpectedly, joy without cause or without reason for celebration comes crashing through the door seeking to reinsinuate itself as its own instigation Ambition, easily confused upon seeing the changing wind seeks to shy away, to fade to the rear sensing confrontation with elation too risky for want is to contentment too truly its greatest fear Time again Never is ever ever enough for life itself is in the extreme surpassing itself time and time again for that it is and for that must it always be as this or that comes to rule each moment becoming that time while chaos itself reigns supreme for all that may no matter what, no matter when must bow to this Time becomes time again defining itself anew each resurgent light as all of creation falls down to this until it was and then never again would it, could it be paved over by insatiable lust for life driving those others over that which drove it seeking to become that moment, become that life which by turns gives life and feeds off of it living by giving what does In Ignorance In ignorance I look to the sky sensing some higher order, some higher mind as yet unknownst to me so I pass it by enjoying peace and pleasure and like in kind for place untold cannot bind In ignorance I live each day without fear oblivious to death omnipresently everywhere in each potently deadly soul be they far or be they near for life and death and consequence we each share needing to be needing, being to dare So to life leave to mystery and to death leave the facts so cold and unchanging written in black upon black for living is standing with the truth to our backs facing the yet-to-be true, the ever changing track surmounting the known with each little act Thinking meaning existed then, or when, or ever we see ourselves as lost and forever wandering blind yet to see truth as evolving becoming full truly never is to accept ignorance as a fact, a mean state of mind knowing all knowing soon succumbs to time My Country Hail to thee, my country Born as Athens, then again as Rome never a nobler conqueror this world has known engaging and enslaving others by ideals alone hoping they may be as free as we may be May our God be as forgiving of we all too often led by our power gone astray yet bold we must be for it is only our way and only courageous assurance will rule this day and make destiny bow to thee Should all men be living free may our many errors in their true light be shown and be judged by those whose responsibilities for themselves match our own for what we did, right or wrong, by it they will have grown enough to see how better it should be Askance Anew Given in to taking, demanding what is not offered, for what in life will life give to he who is not prepared to receive, not ready to turn over every stone, called forth by what fates might await those who never will to settle Receiving all that satisfies serves only to whet ones appetite anew for tastes as yet untried, gains as yet ungarnered, by those who long only to do and by doing to be that which does, having in using, gaining by spending Taken in again by the sorted thrill of the chase to gain that which mystifies before its novel facade fades showing forth again what is true, what is common, what is ever appealing, what is why we need and what How Tastes Truth How tastes truth, sweet or sour, bitter or bucolic, so sayst he, so sayst thee, but how sayst me 'Tis which truths as well as which to whom and when to whom which which whethers tastes What asketh truth, acknowledgment or actions, understandings of underachievements or nothing save simply saying 'What hey,' when passing before passing away Every Word Every word in every book ever today or ever any other day merely is another way to say I am, we do, they were and will and until we are not we shall and we will know what we do and we will remember what was done and sometimes venture some reasons why Tomorrow Tomorrow I shall awake to the dawn of a brand new day unseen, unknown to any who live today and think and dream and believe that they know what with it will come or may as I too asleep to it still yet hail its new way and dare embrace, to touch, to taste in haste that which casts today away for the sake of forsaking this day that stays too long making me gaze longingly toward unseen days and praise that which may bring only greater pains, to chance to lose, yes, but to chance to gain, twice but chance to lose more of the same The Sun Beneath the sun I live and by it I mark my way measuring all my troubles to it, yet coming no closer nor further away It is to me what it is to you and is to all what frames their day ever unnoticed, ever singularly static, as we beneath it change as we may To have, to hold, to see, to live, to run, and to play, to all we have done and will do, to all who will come, to all who've passed away, to this sun, to this one light of day we owe one singularly solitary praise for though far below to different gods we may pray we gain and lose all by this orb of infinite days Where within deceit Where within deceit lies profit, over those few in whom trust is not yet dead, over they who admit injury to claim understandings false they may be, yet to them they are beholden to follow, to love, to live all but in vain losing not mere money nor pride nor innocence but being verily robbed of life, of the right to believe and give freely of oneself without compunction or regret, who then can profit from this, from this theft who can draw breath, who can drink, who can feed, whose greed could this appease for what by wanting could having be more hollow Part 3 Falling through time Falling through time I pause to lose myself deep within my mind as each moment fades into a blur of what was and is and things which never were yet may be if their voices are heard as they clamor to me to heed their call to make their maybe worlds real if they can be at all Distant Shores As I look to the open sea I wonder what might await me if I could force open fate's doors and find myself on distant shores I fancy I might soon set sail away from my earthbound jail toward a place where I can be free and shun all the chains of duty I would find a land of paradise free from all malice and vice where every action comes from love, truly a model for any heaven above Soon though, I must turn away and return to the toils of my day but I hope someday someone will find that such a place lies not just in my mind Vestabur Of all the great legends which ever were no name rings truer than that of the mighty Vestabur who gave all for nothing chasing humanity's forgotten cure In the land of Vikings during the most violent of ancient days this strongest of warriors wept for man's seemingly eternal malaise which pitted man against man and goodness against stronger selfish ways Finding none who were worthy of his inestimable prowess of force he then sailed off alone letting fate decide his course driven by a sense of uneasiness and determined to find its source For fourteen lonely days and fifteen turbulent nights no glimpse of sunlight broke the clouds and no sign of land reached his sights until at last upon that final day he saw mountains of astonishing heights The mountains reached right to the sea barren of any form of living thing, so empty and gray and desolate no comfort did its appearance bring with such an endlessly imposing facade that even the sea birds no longer did sing Hungry and weary from his journey, Vestabur hastened to go ashore but little respite did he receive as his hands became bloodied and sore in trying to climb those rugged cliffs which appeared to go on forever more After what seemed an eternity, he reached the top of a peak only to be confronted by a winged creature that could speak which had hovered before him and asked him what he seeked A dragon some would call it though dragons were not so small for this scaly quite ugly sprite stood no more than three feet tall and because of its tiny wings, one wondered how it flew at all Vestabur thought for a bit and then said, "To end my pain for I am tired, cold, and hungry and am quickly becoming lame as I have traveled long and hard only to find nothing gained." After a long pause of suspicion the creature looked wary and replied, "A bed and shelter and food, these things I can easily provide but surely thou travels not for these for everywhere these comforts reside." The warrior let out a thunderous laugh and said, "Thou art a wise sprite for seeing deeper than I might wish but thou art most certainly right in that I seek relief of a deeper pain than one can name or hold in sight." He continued, "If thou wouldst comfort me with the provisions that thou didst say I would be in thy gravest debt and shall be most eager to repay by naming my pain as yet untold if it pleaseth thee for me to say." It was early the following morning when Vestabur awoke invigorated and refreshed that he told the sprite his woeful tale of how the worst in Man destroyed the best and it was then that he heard the prolific words which would set him upon his greatest quest The creature spoke in a low solemn tone, "Thy vision is true and thy heart is pure for there is a plague of greed upon the land by which Man is poisoned and cannot long endure but all hope has not yet been lost for there is a place which covets the cure." "Devils be damned and heavens praised," Vestabur abruptly and joyfully exclaimed, "A thousand blessings be upon thee if thou wouldst only speak the name of that place which has come to possess such an auspicious claim to fame." "Mubarakk," the winged creature said as it began to fly out of his sight, "Sail in the direction of the setting sun for a hundred days and nights, turn back for no one and nothing and never give into your fright." Slowly Vestabur made his way down the dangerous steep mountain's edge working his way away from the house that the creature had built upon a ledge with his mind dwelling upon the words the strange creature had last said The fury of the seven seas hath no fury like that of a man possessed to achieve that one goal or reward that he knows in his heart to be the best, not for himself but for his whole world and Vestabur was driven by nothing less Through the harshest of storms he sailed unrelentingly plodding on toward some place where he knew he would be gravely taxed in a test which could affect his whole race so he bore the worst the sea could give and he swore he would not act in haste During a rare moment of peace and calm he happened upon a lush tropical isle, a garden of endless sensual delights radiating a joy that could make the devil smile so it was here that he stopped for more supplies and a place where he could rest for awhile Words cannot describe the beauty of that place or of the friendliness people there had showed upon the storied stranger weak and frail half-starved and half-crazed by his chosen road to rid the world of its evil and its pains that some unseen demon or god ungraciously bestowed But here there was no hate or selfishness and the world he left behind seemed to fade away, just a nightmare that lingered in some twilight time forgotten but not leaving its importance betrayed as it clamored to him in his restless troubled sleep and its resolve in hope there too vice could be allayed And the love that had been denied to him before came to him in that wonderful enchanted place in the guise of beauty Mirimaney Kondessay who embodied the purest of virtue, love, and grace with the glimmer of a thousand stars within her eyes and a radiance as great as the sun within her face Here was contentedness and here was untold joy which he had never dreamt could be before yet deep within he knew he'd never see again for he knew that this place was merely a door to be passed through and left behind forever and that more pains of the past lay in store Though this hurt was far deeper than any others, Vestabur left quietly during one calm night again sailing toward the land of the setting sun cursing himself for being too weak to ignite courage enough to bid farewell his new bride and still be able to continue on with his plight Five weeks hence, his supplies again exhausted he found another island to look for food to eat but no land of paradise was this evil isle as death lay everywhere eager to meet this giant of a man who dared enter the domain of the Banu tribe with painted hands and feet In the shank of the evening the blood bath erupted as Vestabur awoke to them attacking him one by one yet each time he triumphed, another foe lay vanquished, and over a hundred lay dead before the dying was done when ten men rushed him cracking his skull for as the mighty Vestabur fell the battle was won When he awoke he found himself tied upon a yoke of precious metals lined with jewels in the hall of a gigantic luxurious marble palace among sculptures carved by the finest artisan's tools, displayed along beside them atop a high ledge being gawked at by a court filled with noble fools From his perch he could look down and see the story of the kingdom unfold beneath his eyes as the monarch sat upon a throne of the finest jade doling out the most incredulous of lies eagerly consumed by a nation taught only obedience caring not that they had no will to compromise Thrice daily he would be washed and fed serving no more purpose than that of a living statue declaring to all the power of the emperor which his bound and helpless state showed true yet only his body lay confined and constrained while his mind raced to uncover any opportunity cue For the first time in his victory filled life Vestabur was held prisoner like some animal in a cage removed from the freedoms he had always known and daily he held witness to his mounting rage at the atrocious abuses of power going on below which we affecting him more than he could ever gauge As he saw even mere children condemned to die for deeds done by their parents or other kin he vowed he would rid this world of this tyrant before resuming the task long ago did he begin believing nothing he could do could ever surpass this victory over viciousness which he had to win After the trials which always ended up executions, Emperor Kyrik would stand alone in this hall admiring his statues and opulent ornaments gloating over having the power of death over all and one day he spoke to Vestabur shackled high above, "Thy head from thy neck might as easily fall!" "Thou wouldst suffer far more than me for I knowst a place of untold treasure," Vestabur answered, "and beauty far greater than could give such a beast as thee pleasure for the wealth of this place surmounts all that thou has is this hall or could measure." "And all I must do to have this marvelous wealth is to set thee free I supposeth," the emperor said, "yet I be not the fool thou thinkst I am for only moments later I wouldst surely be dead though I thinkst thou speaketh the truth so I shall send out my armies to search instead." Moments later the emperor returned to the hall where Vestabur stood consumed by his flaming hate for the man who now predicted complete success in plundering all wealth as his armies would devastate all peoples weaker be they near or far away and as he said so Vestabur realized it was too late Suddenly he was struck with a vision of the island of boundless beauty and grace being raped of the riches it shone forth, the kindness and the love too strong to erase would doom them to be destroyed one and all as the vipers poisoned that wondrous place As the emperor laughed far below Vestabur saw him directly beneath the ledge and summoning all the strength left in him he tipped the stone stockade using his foot as a wedge tilting it forward inch by inch as his foot crushed until at last the stone and he tumbled over the edge He awoke upon a gallows before a crowd shouting curses at him for killing the emperor, no joy did they have for being set free as they began to stone the mighty Vestabur and the reasons why he craved that death were so tainted by this he could no longer remember "These fools shall never become free," Vestabur thought as he prepared to die, "for they haveth no meaning or goals in life save for those given by some ruler up high and such as being as me wouldst never be forced or force others to live out such a lie." Bracing himself for the final yank nearing, he felt proud for having the chance to have been and he feared not death nor pain nor loss for he knew that this was not his true end because his quest was still not near resolution meaning he still would be though knowing not when He saw the coming events proceed in stills, like photographs or like cards taken out of deck, when the trapdoor fell and chaos ensued while the rope snapped close around his strong neck seeing lightening strike the crowd around him then seeing the whole scene fall to a distant speck End of Part One Vestabur- Conclusion (middle parts missing) How Vestabur had come to arrive there I doubt that anyone could truly say and where exactly there might have been could easily go unknown for a million more days so sadly I am left merely able to say that at long last Vestabur had found his way This isle was a perfect circle with a solitary peak which rose forth from the center and ended in a cloud but no joy came from his mighty heart as it raced with a ferocity such that he thought it echoed out loud and a solemn melancholy gripped his whole being fearing the cloud above was his eternal shroud Driven by forces too powerful to dare resist he laughed as he pondered his very first fear, that of reaching the end of his long troubled journey, not of failing but of the success now drawing near and that vague notion of a final resolution made him shake violently as its meaning became clear No more venturing would be should he succeed in ridding the world of all ails and ills as his meaning dissolved before the face of the resolve that drove him here and would carry him up that hill which cursed his success and dared him to leave while he still knew who he was, knowing he could be still But fear could have no hold over him and he let the sensation run its course and go as he slowly made his way toward the town that his visions of forbearance quickly let him know would await him at the foot of that mount and would surprise him with an unexpected foe Pleasant were the people of this remote town eager to meet and greet this great stranger, so accommodating and polite, he was so enthralled and taken aback by this kindness he saw no danger in dallying for a time to repay their generous hospitality when asked to stay awhile and tend to their manger Strange animals he found in that pristine barn where he came to work to tend their stout stock, healthy and boisterous and so uncannily attuned to service that he had but to think to command a flock, sheep which went daily to a meadow undistinguished but for an eerily glowing pile of mountain rocks There at dusk after a hard day's work atop the rocks he felt free as never before in command of his self and his destiny so much so that the future he dreaded lay in store now seemed amicable and even friendly to him smiling down on him because he dreaded it no more Day after day went past while he worked without notice of the time or the passing seasons that soon changed to years, then many years but this seemed not to his goal to be of any treason for this was but a temporary stop on his journey and all must always be because of due reason Four and forty years passed before he noticed how those rocks that he sat upon for so long were to be found in every house and every meeting place, and how they glowed when the townsfolk would throng for some festive event which celebrated each new day as a new era never seeing how much that view was wrong Time made no mark upon this forgotten place as generation after generation came and passed without making any innovation or any new creations to distinguish one era from the next or truths from the mask tradition builds to preserve all views from before and strives to keep any questions from being asked This is in all lands but nowhere else was it so clear as here where there was no small task ever new nor any thought different than those of the day before for even as children learned and constantly grew there was no dividing lines nor any individual patterns setting them apart from each other in what they did or knew Individuals had no meaning to be found here as all worked to serve all others without thought for themselves or for the betterment of others who shared not their secluded seemingly ideal spot yet they did not know of the horrors that lay beyond their vision or of the wrongs elsewhere wrought Yet Vestabur found his gift of inner visions not to be strange nor did he find anyone astounded by his presence nor did they ask of where he came and when he spoke of the past, they were not dumbfounded but would knowingly bow their head in acquiescence whereupon the sorrows of the outside world were sounded Longing to know just how much they knew Vestabur questioned his friend Baynu without respite until at last he admitted they all knew the truth of the world from which he had long left in flight and he too said the cure to all man's troubles lay at the top of the mountain forever in their sight Furious, Vestabur lashed out in utter condemnation at the whole town knowingly just standing by doing nothing while evil lay everywhere hurting all while they did nothing to aid in its possible demise, instead languishing in the luxury of goodwill without the fortitude to make all of mankind so wise "But what of thou," Baynu said in a forgiving way "We cometh here by our forefathers searching like thee and it was here that the stones lastly didst them comfort letting them know from their demons they be free not having to purge themselves of others shortcomings and sins and giving them peace the world beyond wouldst not let be." Again rekindling the fire that led him here, he fled the town in a fit of unseemly haste violently clawing his way up that mountainside not allowing himself chance to rethink out of fear he'd waste this one last chance to gain what he had come for, to rid life of its bile and bitterness of taste He climbed until he could climb no more frozen by the winds chiding "Death is at hand," and there he most surely would have died had it not been for the kindness of a man who had made his camp near the top long ago in the mists of a cloud high above the land Small he was though he did not look frail and his temperament was decidedly meek yet Vestabur felt humbled and quite afraid of this man who many might think to be weak for the fire in his eyes and the weight of his words left the giant too afraid to dare speak Though this man did his best to reassure him, Vestabur could not come to feel at ease here for always was he the most powerful one yet this tiny man somehow made him to fear even though he knew this man meant him no harm making him ever more uncomfortable when he came near After a time he found the courage to speak his irrational fear to this gentle little man and he found himself being able to clearly express notions that he did not even fully understand while saying to this compassionate patron of help how he feared himself no longer in command The look on this stranger's face released him from the fear that he felt within his heart for Vestabur understood that this man knew his fears and his need to feel apart, to be bigger and better than all the rest and how he had need for them all in his heart "That thou wishst to serve thy people is honorable is didst bring thou to me here on thy mountain today," the man said, "as my wish to serve my people faithfully hast brought me here to await thee and help thou learn what it is thou seeks." Vestabur relayed his entire life's history to this stranger upon a cliff high in the air telling him of his joys and his loves lost and how the whole world seemed in deep despair hoping that when he ended his tales of the past he might be told if his future lay there Instead the man said nothing at all of what Vestabur ought next to wish to do as he motioned toward the top of the peak saying, "The end is there to go if thou needst to but what thou may find is within thee now and will still be there when thy journey is through." With great trepidations, Vestabur went outside to gaze at the peak barely visible in the pall seeming so near that he could be there now without needing to have to go there at all and without realizing it he was doing so, climbing as if answering some inner call Then it happened as the universe ended without Vestabur or the snowy mountain top because it all had come to an end long, long ago before the beginning with no story now to stop for he realized all he had lived for could never be as his whole life fell like rain or a single teardrop Wanting for everyone to live in joy, knowing what it truly is like to live free was to him then and is to us in our time now forever to be more of a dream than a reality as it can never be that for any who are free not to be able and therefore not to do, us misery Other poetry books by Jared P. DuBois The Versatile Verse repetition Triumvirum Quadranine pentacle (mini-book) and Montage, a collection taken from all above