"Fallen King" - Bahamas AI Art
©A. Derek Catalano
Some Go Up, Some Go Down
The world is a wheel with a restless spin,
Where the losses are thick and the victories thin.
On the golden rungs of a ladder tall,
Some scramble upward while others will fall.
For the winds of fortune are fickle and fast,
Turning the first into lonely and last,
And lifting the soul who was buried in clay
To the brilliant heights of a brand-new day.
I. The Ascent
Some are born with a spark in the eye,
With wings already fashioned to fly.
They climb through the clouds with a steady hand,
Surveying the riches of all the land.
Their names are etched upon marble and stone,
They sit for a while on a glittering throne.
With every endeavor, they seem to increase,
In a world of abundance and effortless peace.
They build up their towers of silver and glass,
Watching the shadows of lesser men pass.
II. The Descent
But the ground is a hungry and patient thing,
Waiting for those who have acted as king.
For some go down with a sudden crash,
When the markets fail or the empires smash.
A slip of the foot or a change in the tide,
A hollowed-out heart or a blinded pride,
And the man who was walking the edge of the sun
Finds that his season of glory is done.
He tumbles through darkness, stripped of his name,
To the cold, quiet valley of silence and shame.
III. The Lowlands
There are those who begin in the depths of the night,
Who have never once tasted the warmth of the light.
They walk in the furrows of failure and grit,
Where the lanterns of hope are rarely lit.
To the world, they are ghosts in a crowded street,
With the dust of the road on their tired feet.
They know the heavy, monotonous sound
Of a life that is tethered and chained to the ground,
Where every direction is downward and deep,
And the hills of ambition are far too steep.
IV. The Great Reversal
Yet the story is never a finished line,
For the stars in the gutter can learn how to shine.
There is a strength in the one who has bled,
Who has tasted the ash and the bitter bread.
From the ruins of houses and broken dreams,
A different power begins in the streams.
The fallen arise with a scar on the brow,
With a wisdom the wealthy can never allow.
They climb with a hunger the high-born lack,
With the weight of the world on a hardened back.
V. The Warning of the Height
And those who are high should be wary of grace,
Lest they forget how they entered the race.
For the higher the mountain, the thinner the air,
And gravity waits for the unaware.
The cycle is constant, the pendulum swings,
Touching the beggars and touching the kings.
The zenith is merely a place for a rest,
Before the sun sinks in the reddening west.
VI. The Eternal Wheel
So look to your neighbor with kindness and dread,
For the path that you walk is a fragile thread.
Today you may soar where the eagles reside,
Tomorrow you’re caught in the outgoing tide.
Some go up and some go down,
In the dusty streets of this whirling town.
But the measure of man is not where he stands,
But how he reaches with open hands—
To rise from the dust when the world says no,
Or to comfort the fallen when they are low.
For the wheel will turn as the wheel must do,
And the one on the bottom may soon be you.
Where the losses are thick and the victories thin.
On the golden rungs of a ladder tall,
Some scramble upward while others will fall.
For the winds of fortune are fickle and fast,
Turning the first into lonely and last,
And lifting the soul who was buried in clay
To the brilliant heights of a brand-new day.
I. The Ascent
Some are born with a spark in the eye,
With wings already fashioned to fly.
They climb through the clouds with a steady hand,
Surveying the riches of all the land.
Their names are etched upon marble and stone,
They sit for a while on a glittering throne.
With every endeavor, they seem to increase,
In a world of abundance and effortless peace.
They build up their towers of silver and glass,
Watching the shadows of lesser men pass.
II. The Descent
But the ground is a hungry and patient thing,
Waiting for those who have acted as king.
For some go down with a sudden crash,
When the markets fail or the empires smash.
A slip of the foot or a change in the tide,
A hollowed-out heart or a blinded pride,
And the man who was walking the edge of the sun
Finds that his season of glory is done.
He tumbles through darkness, stripped of his name,
To the cold, quiet valley of silence and shame.
III. The Lowlands
There are those who begin in the depths of the night,
Who have never once tasted the warmth of the light.
They walk in the furrows of failure and grit,
Where the lanterns of hope are rarely lit.
To the world, they are ghosts in a crowded street,
With the dust of the road on their tired feet.
They know the heavy, monotonous sound
Of a life that is tethered and chained to the ground,
Where every direction is downward and deep,
And the hills of ambition are far too steep.
IV. The Great Reversal
Yet the story is never a finished line,
For the stars in the gutter can learn how to shine.
There is a strength in the one who has bled,
Who has tasted the ash and the bitter bread.
From the ruins of houses and broken dreams,
A different power begins in the streams.
The fallen arise with a scar on the brow,
With a wisdom the wealthy can never allow.
They climb with a hunger the high-born lack,
With the weight of the world on a hardened back.
V. The Warning of the Height
And those who are high should be wary of grace,
Lest they forget how they entered the race.
For the higher the mountain, the thinner the air,
And gravity waits for the unaware.
The cycle is constant, the pendulum swings,
Touching the beggars and touching the kings.
The zenith is merely a place for a rest,
Before the sun sinks in the reddening west.
VI. The Eternal Wheel
So look to your neighbor with kindness and dread,
For the path that you walk is a fragile thread.
Today you may soar where the eagles reside,
Tomorrow you’re caught in the outgoing tide.
Some go up and some go down,
In the dusty streets of this whirling town.
But the measure of man is not where he stands,
But how he reaches with open hands—
To rise from the dust when the world says no,
Or to comfort the fallen when they are low.
For the wheel will turn as the wheel must do,
And the one on the bottom may soon be you.
©A. Derek Catalano/Gemini
