Master of Stories

I see them woven, thread by thread

I see connections and fallacies

It matters not how they come:

By page, screen or song they are stories,

And each genre is distinct in its own way

Pain is the mark of a tragedy,

Whether anguish in soul or body,

And prejudice its best friend.

One after another, disasters strike

Both large and small and breeding strife

Between the factions or inside the man.

Those left behind learn from the dead

And continue, stricken yet wiser.

Comedy is near when laughter you hear.

It takes many forms,

From crude and dark, to witty and smart,

To several more beyond.

This tale helps, heals and eases,

If only for a moment, stress ceases

And we are able to face our day.

A hero, a quest, a god, a triumph,

Adventure and these mark an epic.

Dangerous beings are sought and sent to dust,

The conqueror returns to town, a hero

Until the day of his death.

These make a reader bold, make a man walk tall,

Ready for the day he can change his life.

To each story its own mark,

A tale of light or a tale of dark,

Each one a matter of angle,

See them weave, connect and tangle.

My passion is this: to know the stories

And use them to make life less boring.