pact fusion hath brewed
welds cauldron spewed spit fiery
sparse talents biformed renowned
oddity affair
ardent youth pose statuesque
fragile innards touch grotesque
bursts end aggression
severs espousal rapport
guilt aspires realist soars
As I reach my hand twords the light, I see you. I feel you. You must see me too, my love.
Its almost as if your still here.
You we're the one person that mde me feel, the one person I could rely on when I was in need.
And I killed you.
I shot you.
I shot and killed the one person who could make me feel like an actual person.
My dear Rim, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
The roads leading away
circle the distances
and seem to go nowhere.
They seed the horizon
with promises, disorganising
the senses and reason
until there is only a hole,
a dark cave into
the interior.
Effigies stare out of the dark
cloaked in symbols that can
only be deciphered by the soul.
This is the language
of the visionary, gifted seer
of the modern. For this traveler
in the shadowlands
of the psyche, there is either
transcendence or death,
mattering little if counted
as one more in history's legion
of the forgotten,
or a dazzling occupant
of another realm.
His words haunt,
coming agonizingly close
to revelation, enchanting
the soul with the stolen
melodies of the sublime
before falling silent
as homeless angels
must do, a casualty
of flesh and blood.
If I'd been embraced
I wouldn't write like I do;
I would feel loved.
I'd be complacent like you.
But that's not my fate.
I am burned in the fire
and when you ignore me
the flames keep burning higher.
So please, by all means continue,
leave me alone.
Go ahead. Watch me.
Watch me burn down to the bone.
He views the world in the most subtle of ways
Eyes like a fly, searching everything around, seeing
All in millisecond detail
He sees not the flower or the thorn, but the
Emerald light of photosynthesis from which it grows;
In the woman, he envisions not her curves of ecstasy
But the radiant glow of each scale
Skin soaking up light
His visions are betrayers of our eyes
As few can see thorough his.
Brilliance is not found in majesty
But his own contented selfish universe
Where our only chance to glimpse his genius
Is in a few written words.