Reflections on The Craft

By Connor Huffman

There are times I wonder if I’ll succeed.

I question my definition of success.

Will I be known? Remembered? Will I fade?

Perish the thought, yes—still, It troubles me.

I question my definition of success.

Does it exist simply in the making?

Perish the thought, yes—still, It troubles me,

the thought my name will not be relevant.

Does it simply exist in the making?

I lie awake—await reassurance.

The thought my name will have no relevance,

a dreadful tormentor in twilight hours.

I lie awake—await reassurance.

Still, I fear my name will be discarded—

a fearful tormentor in twilight hours.

It’s a difficult thing to reconcile.

Still, I fear my name will be discarded—

lost to time, that I will have no impact.

It’s a difficult thing to reconcile.

Though, even Caesar will fade. Why not me?

Lost even to time, I will leave no mark.

Why even try? I am destined for dust…

Though, even Caesar will fade. Why not me?

A reassuring thought in times of doubt.

Why even try? I am destined for dust…

Perhaps the making is success itself?

A reassuring thought in times of doubt.

It’s no matter what others think of me.

Perhaps the making is success itself?

Will I be known? Remembered? Will I fade?

It’s no matter what others think of me, yet still,

There are times that I wonder if I shall succeed.

Connor Huffman, hailing from Richmond, Indiana, resides in Bristol, Rhode Island. He is in his junior year of study as an English major with minors in Creative Writing and Communications and Media Studies. His writing ranges from prose fiction, to nonfiction and poetry, though he loves to write speculative fiction and supernatural mystery/horror stories.