A tale told by an idiot, packed with sound and bear, signifying absolutely nothing. -Shakespeare
Mild pierced the hazing warmth, Illuminating the scene below. In a circle the cult did stand, And performed clap and clap and clap their particular hands, Till the seeker finally was found. And since his eye he sealed, The rest swarmed forth just like mice. After which their gap they located To cloak them via fierce green, Which only the glass in the felines eye, With curtains drawn, Can keep inside. Yet up the hues did go up, Emitting mild from sight Fiercer compared to the sun over. And one particular hole brief were that they, And with one little squeak, A bit white mouse button gave his life aside.
And as their play continuing, Others sitting in speculate At the wrath of naturel venue. Through swarms and throngs they will searched For that which for some continues to be lost seeing that birth. Languishing through disease and discomfort, uncomfortableness, Through period they try to stay in, But infected blood through their problematic veins does circulation. Yet moans screamed high in volume were silenced To the ear of those who played that game.
And through it all, A boy lay exposed. In addition to two shinning orbs the fear Resembled that of a tiger hunted deer, Till instantly an idea this individual took Of a place simply no Bengalian will ever seem. And over the terrain did he run away, Through blackness and dark areas, Until through the cracks he slipped, Graded at a fearful land of security. Through the jungles the Bengal beast Did search. No eyes failed, Although the ambition performed flail. And vanish performed the beast To vanquish a different feast.
And while the tiger performed gorge As well as the deer did cloak himself in darkness, The people stomachs did growl louder Than any kind of beasts roar. And in the earth and in the trees And everything through mother nature did they will hunt, Nevertheless on being hungry only performed they party.
Yet, when they were living with the thirst for foodstuff, The tiger became drunk with existence, And visions of glory in the stags mind had been planted. A mad dashboard made this individual To finish lifestyle victorious. But since he whooped and hollered The cult turned round to look. Only confusion did come out, For not any recognition relaxed there. Forgotten had he been Since all had continued with out him.
Yet humiliation tolled so high in volume That the bombs hitting That they never heard. And as the troops had been deflected, A new game that they elected. Men fell in waves upon waves upon ocean. And as they bathed themselves in blood vessels, Cries of victory and shrieks of defeat Grad out loud Since women cried more rainwater than clouds.
And from the balcony Wholeness spared a fleeting glance At a small green planet. Practically nothing wrong, nothing at all right, Nothing at all, Nothing, Practically nothing. And so the sashes were pulled And the window treatments did fall. None noticed the child sufferer: No longer ignorant But forever insignificant.