BY DR. AGONSON
O favored son, my brother far from me,
what have I become?
Was not I once beloved, not young and free?
Now I'm only numb.
I saw your godlike visage in the park
—silent as the stone—
and there among the crowd my eyes grew dark.
Now we are alone.
So speak brother, for here it's just us two,
speak to me again!
Remember me, for I remember you.
Why do you disdain?
They softly hum, the lights below your feet
shining on your face.
Look down at them, and my expression meet.
Grant this little grace.
I know you're dead, but why should I survive
maimed and here forgot?
I plead with you to speak, my soul revive.
Then I'll bear my lot.
Tale Told 