December Challenge brings a melancholy story, folks. An experimental jazz song with organs and bells, heaven knows why. Anyhow, please read the poem below:
Hear that muffled voice. . . . Silence. . . You must leave your busy thoughts to realize Beyond where you remain, listener Comes those staggering footsteps, Those uneven, limping hobbles. Listen carefully to them Don’t you notice the pleading? He’s vanished, that man But those footsteps continue Perpetually. . . yet he remains forgotten. And there remains nothing but a story of Christmas Eve:
The bitter snow the winds throw Pierces my eyes as it flies. Struggling, I traipse and trudge up the snow-topped hill Yet still, as ice freezes my stiff feet, I cannot proceed, though I need— O Christmas Eve, I cannot conceive To bear what I see, or is it just me? When I leave the world behind Who can recollect it anymore? What has become of the hearts of mankind? O Great Snow, the cold hearts of the world cannot compare to thee All I long, all I desire for Christmas Is a benevolent soul, nothing more And here stands I, verge to die Battling up the frigid hill Climb to the top, steady, I will Lest I fall headlong, incomplete song! And the Great Snow entombs me, could it be? Silver pocket watch is warning me, “Rush! Hurry!! Up the hill now!” While tears freeze on my numb cheeks, I mourn, “I CAN’T! NOOO!!!” A final blow from the North Wind And I collapse in the cold darkness O Great Snow, you selfish undertaker! You bury me in your white casket, forgotten forever Lastly, I recollect the youth I’ve left behind Yells I to the ones who follow the vanishing footsteps, “Don’t do something you’d regret! "STOP! No, you shan’t! Not a single hour you care! No, take your eyes away from the malevolent! Where are genuine souls? WHERE? How selfish! How unfortunate! How—” But the wind deafens me, so remains I Forgotten On Christmas Eve. . . . ---------------------- Cordially, Mr. Hope