The words
hunted him
hunted him
down.
When they had captured
his imagination
they
tamed him.
Told him
their dreams
which they called
'Stories.'
Begged him
to write them.
When he told them
he would
they let him
go again
(miles from nowhere)
(miles from where he'd been)
(miles from who he'd been) .
He treked endlessly
across a vast desert
of blank() pages
page after page.
When they found him
he was dead
but he had somehow managed
to write on stone
the story that
this poem
unfolded.
Put your ears
away now.
There's no more
to hear.
This...is
the End.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/end-of-story-for-byran/
