A Prayer for None
Beyond the boisterous bustle I go,
I find the way, I want to know,
You think twice, you don't deny,
You fill me up, you help me die.
Wishes with wisps wobble about,
I love with passion that dubious doubt,
You break in, you sing too loud,
You send the rain back to the clouds.
I traverse inverse in a psychosomatic realm,
I begin to grow dicey, till virtues overwhelm,
You say a soft prayer, you invoke the crowd,
You unwrap the dull and mysterious shroud.
I take an identity, I throw the idea,
I imbibe new courage from an emerging phobia,
You tread across the air, you begin tantalising,
You become transparent, you turn enterprising.
I don't recognise the Prince of Denmark,
I bump into Prufrock in a children's park,
You happen to be on the wings of poesy,
You strike out the light for Darkness to see.
I see the skylark vanishing into the forest of the night,
I do not stand alone watching the angels fight,
You pick up a ravishing red red rose somehow,
You draw the stringent curtain, you forget to bow.
The world's not a stage, neither are we players,
We exist in the void, we supplicate to the layers,
I being nowhere, where's no water to drink,
You come upon as Godot until we don't sink,
I pantomime the hour, that often struts and frets,
You hold the flaming alter, in a packet of cigarettes!
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