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From the epic poem, EOS; verse, 7308-7350
by Sir Titus Llewellyn, unpublished
Book ii - Bouquet with Love

 

Enter Asha - Junior Psychiatric Nurse

  & William - Sufferer of schizophrenia


William speaks to Asha as she reads the book 
he has written for her........, as you are doing.

 
William
How dusk has drawn suspicion from your eyes
these visits have become the long lost friend
who writes without reply - that's no surprise
the way I am adoring you, so don't pretend.

hesitates.......

I find that from a patients point of view
ideas are being listened with fondness for
returning, makes believe this has an end
I cannot help but  trust you anymore.

gives her the book...

Pursue the words I've left with you in my will
a token of my love in words I cherish,
following the realms that often still
believe in you and care as much until.......... 

Asha
I have no time to listen - indeed read
the ridicules of someone you'll replace
who disappears tomorrow without trace.
silent pause... 
Another cryptic message I'll not need.
 

William
Just read the words and feel it with your heart.
Decipher what you can without the pledge,
my writing has preferred and having had
a hope in hells chance pulling it apart,
gliding worse, the fate along a knife-edge.

 
Asha
I'll treasure what appears to be much work,
the task that your imprisonments have purged
preventing ways and means the seethings urged
a while back knowing often, how berserk
your actions were and how this book immerged.
Cannot a tear sufficient to your need
be borrowed like the journey of lost cause,
another real life story, feelings plead
when giving back the care my feeling was?  

Tries to kiss her! 

I have to go - how dare you do such things
my care, and least devotions are disgraced
the length of duty caring for you placed!
GET REAL!-
needing my mother is a fear I can do without,
Not you! I miss her so much!

Asha exits

 
William, (bringer of bad news?)
I know - I have bad news and this you'll find,
in time, when superstitions fill with hate
a sentinel of words - what sounder  mind,
could echo truth when all that I create
is gifted not a curse but mere sedate.
Slumber from which all our dreams debate.... (pause)
It lingers while this love sustains as time
And sleeps while we awake no time at all.
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