Two Lives


Brown bottles have given birth to a second life.  Long ago lost, the lands of my youth.  Old men dream dreams.  Though my ideal self, the days are more varied as the world we share.  Delights and despondence share the same infinite space.  Prince and pauper are but masks in the darkness.  Sets are built and struck with frightening speed.  My bed a castle or a crypt beyond my control.  Two lives.  Two games.  Strategy and chance.  In one I am losing; the other I’m lost.

Advertisements
By Ben Posted in Life

Comments encouraged!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s