The Hero's Tragedy Revisited Poem by Leon Moon

Never tired, he lugs the weight,
Setting salt stones in his ribs.
He reaches for the weight
Which every orphan dwells for —
The piano keys giggle
Above the idle man's encore.
As he begins to write
His love beckons once again,
Setting where he first reposed.
Never tired, he lugs the weight,
Setting salt stones in his ribs.

He burns out his cranium,
The audience stop laughing.
Alone with every other being,
Cast into the Sea,
Praying for brine to evolve
(Or atleast compose music!)
His memory dissolves to sand,
Hardened from ink into air,
Shrivelling the Sun to an ice hand —
Never tired, he lugs the weight,
Setting salt stones in his ribs.

Each word strung by the week
Poses as a reaction to love
(The lock has not yet been gulped):
He reduces victory
To a bedsit and toothache,
Forgetting the song which strung
Each step to the mirrored grave.
Never tired, he lugs the weight,
Crossing out every virtue
Which nurtures the recital.
Who was it that said this was life?

As he begins to write
His love beckons once again —
(The Lock has not yet been gulped)