The Quieted

once with such a loud voice & so much youthful energy nothing could stop this seemingly unstoppable force & in awe, people stood on the sidelines watching it take distance in leaps & bounds as if up ahead all there was to be had would be further progress. it was full of itself it was more beautiful than a vision of the cosmos when viewed through the sexiest lens manufactured it was perfect, prismatic, persistent & practical in its laying of plans. everyone & everything was, of course, supposed to act accordingly in cahoots with the young & blissful, error-free & in the business of molding those around it in order to better itself. oh so loud were the melodies it sang so loud were its ideals so loud were its thoughts (as to blurt out all else) so frequent were its accomplishments so little did it care about anything else. and then it slammed face first into a wall--- this wall, ever so strong, was thicker & more sustainable than any idea, any vision, any thought, any melody that had once been produced by the young wonder & faced with a path of resistance (in which struggle would present itself at every junction made possible, offering no life free of stress, etc.), or one of complete reconstruction in which to work like a cog in a greater mechanism (free of any struggle, stress, etc.), it would have to toss out all its own independent thoughts, ideals, melodies & visions so that it would quietly rumble with the rest of em’--- it gave up everything & remains to this day, quieted.