The pot made of gold

So, I decided that since its a general blog ( sorry, THE general blog )... Why don't I post my own publication. If you are wondering what it is, then its a poem (a ballad). A ballad is a poem that represents a story. This is pretty much the first poem that I have written guys and I hope you like it. Please write down in the comments section about what you think, you can be as harsh as you want ( totally cool if you aren't) and if you like it, then please follow my blog.

The pot made of gold

There lived a man, in the olden days of yore,
money and success he had in galore.
Humble and pious once he was,
but the more he got the more was his loss.
You may wonder what I mean,
and you will believe once you have seen,
the scoff on his face and the lust of money,
little did he know there is something worth more than diamond or ebony,
you will believe me once you have seen.
So come folks let me tell you his story,
how he understood the world's true glory.

A man of virtue, a man of good,
respect and money he got and understood,
then it happened the change in his life.
The more he got, the more he wanted,
to get more wealth, many plans he plotted.

His mind changed and with it his heart,
from sweet and kind, he was now sour and tart.
On his face clearly it was shown,
to the lust of money, he was prone.
Rude and arrogant he had become,
the doom of his virtues now had come.

Once he met with a man of mystery,
a man who was said to have changed the history
is worth more than he had,
what could make him more glad?
Quoth the man "A pot made of gold!
which will never be sold.
In the forest of doom,
a house you will reach ,
with nothing but beauty yet covered with gloom,
a house so beautiful yet so ugly,
a house so desirable yet so unworthy,
there my friend, you will find the pot of gold,
its worth maybe two, three or ten fold, of what you now hold"
His expression changed,
his smile upturned,
what was this gold, that he hadn't earned?

He set out to find the forest of doom,
the beautifully unworthy house,
to walk in its rooms.
He set out for the pot of gold,
His face was set, his desire was bold.
The pot of gold, so fabled and so great,
he started to wonder what may be its weight,
little did he know what might lay ahead,
well if he knew he'd still be in bed.
For it was known that the forest of doom,
offered nothing but gloom.

He went through the dark forest,
travelling day and night,
for the pot of gold he had to find.
He traveled far, he traveled long,
his bottles were empty his food was gone.
With his heard hurting and his feet sore,
many marks of injuries he still bore,
he jumped with excitement at seeing a door.
He saw a house so beautiful at distance but when he got near,
he felt a resistance.
Studded with diamond carved with gold,
but so dark and so cold.

He knocked on the door with whatever might he had,
the door flew open and he saw and old woman, frail and sad.
She asked "My child what brings you here?
This is a dark forest with nothing there?"
"The pot of gold, my fair lady,
I believe you have it maybe?"
"I do my child, and here you go!"
Saying this the lady gave him the pot made of gold,
the man watched as it materialized before him,
the pot of gold he wanted was there,
his journey was complete he had succeeded in his fare.

The house was vanished,
from it he was banished.
He looked at the pot and realized it was empty,
but what it was made of,
was still worth plenty.
Then hunger took over, his stomach hurt,
he realized he had lost,
all of his girth.
The pot of gold lay there standing completely useless,
he now understood his fare was fruitless.

The golden pot was all his riches,
that he realized he never should have sought.
His bowl was empty he had no happiness,
he then realized that he was always clueless,
success and riches don't make your life,
unless you find happiness for which you have to strive.
                                     By- Shivansh Badoni