With great effort his essence sought to deny each and every
pleasure,
The variety of distractions which his body often found in
leisure.
The only actual joy, which his heart would still value and treasure:
Subtle improvements of his dreams, by an incremental measure.
His tormented flesh, called for him to cease;
The endless pursuit, of his imagination`s release.
Still, the objective`s capture, he`d continue to increase;
Despite all the temptations, which plagued his peace.
His social existence was in a barren condition;
No time for any, except personal ambition -
And, while he acknowledged this lonely position,
He did not attempt to make any public addition.
Pouring his entire heart, and every ounce of his soul,
Into the attainment of his one (and only) lifelong goal.
Willing to pay and suffer every single solitary toll;
While in silent solitude, his momentum continued to roll.
He was insulted daily for his foolishly followed aspiration,
Ridiculed relentlessly for his hopeful sense of dedication,
Labeled with many brands for his steadfast concentration;
But, against the endless enmity, still chasing artistic
generation.
Comforted by the knowledge: if he died before the vision was
achieved;
In heaven, hell, or nothingness – his spirit would be
content and relieved.
He felt that, though success might be an illusion which lied
and deceived;
Throughout all the doubt and slander, he always attempted
and believed.
Composed By: A. D.
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