Staring at these boots, mind aloof,
Floating in the glow of a setting sun.
In rememberance of a fading dream.
A lucid memory unrelenting.
Radiant were the rays at dawn,
Only a glimpse…
Of this marvel was seen.
Majesty was there….
Aglow with ferocious nobility.
Exuding a rare beauty, enigmatic,
From this perch, looking back,
It was staring in to infinity,
The harmony of Shiva…of storms,
Destroying and creating, as one.
Two eyes are unequipped,
To catch its essence with words.
The ciggerette begins to droop.
Apollo awaits his rest.
Regret will come with the moon.
A gift was lost.
A path was forsaken.
Greatness was there, framing the world,
With a Crown afire, flames unending licking the sky forever hungry,
As they danced..
Thought, sight and reason,
Were consumed in its brilliance.
The crown called in the voice of a Siren.
A seduction irresitable in its call to serve,
“Go…go..please follow the melody”..the heart called out desperately.
Each beat like a drum calling men to war.
Majesty, Greatness. She:
Is magic personified.
The Tyger burning bright,
The immortal hand, and the lamb.
The beginning and the end.
Salvation on her velvet lips,
With an abyss hiding in a grin,
Ecstasy dancing like fae in her eyes,
In step with an unquenchable hunger,
Cavernous and endless,
Wanting everything and more.
Locked in the tower of reason,
That stands tall in this mind,
Peeking out with vanishing skepticism,
Logic crumbling with each second.
Sitting in the rubble with only wonder,
Bewildered…the head turned roundabout:
To a raving Captain Ahab,
A whale had flowered madness.
Soul, heart, mind…lept forward,
Obsessed is a word, or enraptured,
Opposite of ecstasy: thirst in a desert.
Swollen now with some type of clarity. It felt, hope has the heaviest:
So then. What was precipitating this:
Eagerness, to enter the maws and be consumed,
How had the mind synthesized the sirens call to doom into a ballad:
Of a reasonable sacrifice so deeply appetizing:
Thoughts once of reason, pleading in a starved tone, knees quivering to bend:
Threads of self already attuned to the vibration:
Which trumpeted in exultation of a King to a Guillotine.
As if guided, to altar: without a bell to ring for existence,
Pride: bullish, and unwavering,
Arose within the mind, militant,
Unequivocally denying this sight.
Dulling the majesty, denying the greatness, muting the call.
Ugly it looked, its taste that of ash.
Unwelcome, it chose the path of
Melancholy. “Never give in”, it chanted.