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The Boy And His Labrador, By: Lewis Olden

November 13, 2024 by Lewis Olden

The Boy and His Labrador, By: Lewis Olden

Out in the mystic hills,
Walks a boy and his dog,
Shrouded in secrecy,
Always concealed in fog,
Some say they’re mad,
Some say they’re lost,
They will always be searching,
Even through Christmas frost,
Question every breath,
With which they walk the floor,
This is the tale,
Of the boy and his Labrador,

They’re rarely seen,
A presence of a ghost,
Glide like a dream,
To become the world’s host,
You will hear the frantic gasps,
Of a thirsty hound,
The river is all but empty,
Yet reward is always found,
Live within their means,
Find luxury in squalor,
You can provide nothing,
For the boy and his Labrador,

The calm, collected footsteps,
Silence the haunted forest,
Cry out like a church bell,
In agonizing protest,
Their hearts aren’t whole,
The boy has something missing,
He never stops walking,
To erase the act of kissing,
His mind is always with her,
Right to his heart’s core,
Now his only love,
Lies in his beloved Labrador,

They say you cannot see them,
Not with the human eye,
You must look deeper,
To see the sun cry,
At dawn they stand,
Upon the broken sea,
For but a moment,
They stand in eternity,
Then to disappear,
Into the ocean’s roar,
A mirage of being,
Surrounds the boy and his Labrador,

Every third Sunday,
When the stars cannot be seen,
They set off into the darkness,
To see what it means,
Fighting all that’s evil,
In perpetual toil,
The hound is offered shelter,
But will always stay loyal,
Rain falls as one,
The sky starts to pour,
It cannot dampen the fire,
Of the boy and his Labrador,

There is a great lake,
That swallows all that enter,
The boy does not fear,
For then he can forget her,
He smiles and rubs the head,
Of his greatest friend,
Who’d follow him anywhere,
To the very end,
As they begin to row,
Toward an unknown shore,
Fear is not felt,
By the boy and his Labrador,

Land upon the beach,
Where stone is turned to sand,
A land free of kings,
Each at their own command,
Bask in the surroundings,
To see a lit cave,
Where danger is forgotten,
Where freedom is a slave,
The cave is warm,
Littered in splendor,
What is sought,
Greets the boy and his Labrador,

There rests a mirror made of gold,
Revealing what you most desire,
A man who sees nothing,
Can only be a liar,

The hound sees himself,
With a juicy bone,
Lying with his master,
In their country home,
The boy sees his love,
In another’s arms,
She wears a smile,
Far away from harm,
If she is happy, so is he,
Even if he is remembered no more,
She won’t ever leave his heart,
Neither will that silly old Labrador,

They were not seen again,
Not on that mystic hill,
Some say you can see them,
When the earth stands still,
The bearers of truth,
A guardian angel,
The ones who derive,
Heaven from hell,
In your darkest moments,
When you find relief,
Think of what it was you saw,
Perhaps, just maybe,
It was that boy and his Labrador.

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