text; un: raverobber

[badfeyth]

What was it that you thought you knew?
"Not much," misfortune seemed to bray,
When all came crashing down on you.

You used to shine in every hue;
Your confidence kept fear at bay.
What was it that you thought you knew?

For like a weed, ambition grew;
Temptation drove your steps astray,
When all came crashing down on you.

Could I have hindered what ensued?
Could this have gone another way?
What was it that you thought you knew?

What matter now? At your debut,
On best intentions, panic preyed.
It all came crashing down on you.

And now upon a time or two,
My own reflection seems to say,
"What was it that you thought you knew
When all came crashing down on you?"

It's been a while since I wrote one of these. They say it's a poetry form that's often used for showcasing a level of obsession; from a technical standpoint, it's also a fairly difficult type to write in because of the rigidity of its form. You pretty much have to pick the refrains first and then work out the rest of it around them.

Anyway, it's probably some level of hubris to put something like this out where anyone and everyone can see it, but call it a way of holding myself accountable to something. If it's out there, I can't set it alight and pretend it never existed. For better or for worse, there it is.

I should probably do more of that than I do, putting things out there and damning the hangups. But any bridge built has to start with a single post, right? Or something like that — don't look at me, I'm not an architect.

Comments

[badfeyth]

Hah! Now that's definitely possible. Next to a bonfire, every candle looks infinitesimal.

You're partial to poetry, then?

[deathoftheauthor]

Oh, yes, very much so. Books were one of the few things I used to collect, and my volumes of poetry were particularly dear to me. I would return to my favorites often, though I'm certain I knew them by heart.

I'm no poet, though. Merely an admirer.

[badfeyth]

In my humble experience, poetry is one of those things that quickly turns from admiration to attempt. Usually when you find one that ALMOST speaks to your purpose, but not quite, and you can't help but go and try to make it so.

I'll write one for you, if you want.

[deathoftheauthor]

Ah... yes, that's true, isn't it? I have certainly made my share of attempts, but never to my satisfaction. Defeated by my own self-consciousness, I suppose.

... You would? Really?