The Messenger

Written by: Charles Fuller

The bard’s tale begins here, without remedy,
This telling of here is, there is, and tomorrow is,
Predestined works of meticulous perception,  
A prophetic hunter searching inside the anecdotal,
Over uncountable eons for his vague lucidity,

An eremitic nomad perceiving his journeys path,
Being sculpted and painted upon times medium,
Recurrently seduced by the thirst of obligation,
Into the pinnacle of death’s unabated progression,   

Quintessential holy man distorted by august lunacy,
Avant-garde purpose and innate coolness,
A prophet of constant deviating certainty,
An amalgam of the inevitable impetus of here and then,

Derived from the presage of opportunity,
Distinguished by fate to eternally struggle,
As a combatant upon the fields of our history,
Revered triumphancy amongst pain ridden turmoil,

Swathed in esteem and overwhelming omnipotence,
The divine sojourner moves ever forward to eternity,
Polished in the ineffable glow of foresight,
He continues down the pathway to do his biddings