The Story of a Storyteller
Once upon a time, I happened to be a Storyteller.
I came from a land remote and far.
I traveled miles, crossed seas and deserts,
Bearing a book full of tales in my mosaic-patterned heart.
Stories from the heavens of love, I brought;
Tales from the hells of war I wrought.
Stories which I picked from a mother's lullaby; *(rhyme with elegy)
Tales that I stole from a soldier's elegy.
Some from the flashback of a ruined and forgotten kingdom;
Some from the prediction of a robotic future to come.
Stories of mirth, stories of pain...
Tales of lose, tales of gain...
I traveled ages, crossed mountains and mazes;
Met demons and sages,
And brought the stories for all.
Little did I know, it was time for me to fall.
Alas! My listeners were gone, to hear my stories there was none!!
Participants they were now of a never-satiating quest...
Here I met hundreds of winners, hundreds of losers;
Rotten carcasses, suffocated hearts.
"Who will listen to my stories?" I thought.
Each of these participants had a story they had fought.
They wanted to speak, they wanted to be heard.
But nowhere was a listening soul they needed, they searched.
That was the time, I decided to reverse my role.
That changed my fate and my stories still rest untold.
I remained no more the mosaic-hearted Storyteller.
But permuted and put on the persona of an ever-absorbing Listener.
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