Orith was a young man, dreamer, singer
of things that were not and could not be.
He dreamed of world beyond worlds,
and the stars laughed in his dreams.
But only the dull survive.
Dreamers are, of necessity, not dull.
And Orith sang,
"Dreams could be and we could love.
Must we lose it behind walls
that slowly cloak
Dreamers make a world jealous, hateful,
in envying those who make not into become.
They drowned Orith in poverty and strife and hard living
that allowed no singing and crushed every dream.
When they were done,
they laid Orith at rest,
a white lily on his chest.
Orith never sang again
in this world
but on certain nights
I am told
you can hear him.
Copyright 2004. All rights reserved.