The Broken Road (Poem)
William Manning, who writes at Modern Maleficarum, was inspired to write a poem by my novel As I Walk These Broken Roads; I figured I’d share it with you.
The Broken Road
A thousand leagues I’ve wandered
I’ve seen near everything
From unrelenting wastelands
To cold, refreshing springs
A land of rakes and scoundrels
A field of toiling saints
No place for me to rest my eyes
As I walk these broken roads
The gears that keep us moving
The tomes of sages past
A million years of history
This magic makes us last
My eyes have seen no aged man
Nor brilliant prodigy
But only children playing men
As I walk these broken roads
A little child is tinkering
With dad’s time-keeping box
He squints and shakes his little head
Yet only sees a clock
I open up its cabinet
And show him all the parts
I plead and beg for him to see
As I walk these broken roads
Then the dad came up to me
And peered up at the face
“There’s nothing wrong with this device,
Why look inside the case?”
I primed myself to answer back
But realized it was futile
Inquiry cannot be taught
As I walk these broken roads
I heft my bag and say farewell
They look at me and wonder
Why would a man be curious
In a world that’s broke asunder?
The path ahead is treacherous
The highway is a hell
A welcome sight for virile eyes
As I walk these broken roads
That’s pretty good. Modern culture has taught me to hate poetry and have no use for it. It’s refreshing to see a poem that actually makes sense, flows, and creatively tells a story.