The Last Storyteller

By Aarron Mondello

written 15/1/2018 

There’s an old man silent somewhere
Sitting in his chair
On his tongue rests a tale
From when he was young and fair

Once he built worlds with his voice
To carry young and old
To faraway lands in unknown kingdoms
With the tales that he told

Over the years his voice grew hoarse
And lost its lilting song
No longer were his words quite enough
For an audience to hang upon

In his dotage the fancy took him
To tell his tales to the birds
The echo of elation rushed through him
As he tumbled out his words

Now even the birds have turned away
And fled frigid Winter air
He just mumbles his tales to himself
And audience that isn’t there

©Aarron Mondello
15/1/2018


Image https://www.deviantart.com/art/The-Golden-Fish-old-man-644551040

2 thoughts on “The Last Storyteller

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