If Vesuvius would bath me
Leave an ashy mold of life.
When they come years later
And uncover me
With slow blows of chisel
What will they find?
Liquid rock ruthlessly drinking up
Everything I know and leaving a perfect casing,
A gift wrapped for a recipient
Not yet known.
Would it even be exciting?
This man was inspiring,
This man loved loudly
And cared deeply.
This man stood up
When others lay down,
Resisting the current and by that
Being the only one
To truly know it’s strength.
Or
This man was lazy
This man hit snooze too many times
Life forgot him long before this.
This man spun in circles
Never picking a direction.
Here’s hoping it doesn’t take
A volcano for me to leave a legacy.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 