By: Sancero Posted on: November 30, 2007
It is world apart from rhythm and meter, a realm we glimpse only from afar, and
even then in unconscious sleep. Here is a phantasmagoric journey through the
realm of dreams in verse, made tangible in verse..
- Of Dreams-
The hopes and fears of Gods and men
Are held within Her Realm, and when
You shut your eyes and drift away,
She waits with open arms, they say.
Within Her soft embrace you soar
Through love and hope, through strife and war.
With Her is nothing as it seems:
Rest eyes, and mind, and soul and dream...
-Of Family-
How many liquid spheres must end
their lives upon your brow,
must dance among your eyelashes
before you feel the rain?
How many stinging hailstones rend
your cheeks and scar your face
before you look away from them
and once again feel pain?
How many hateful dreams will haunt
your every waking hour,
will torment every day
until you sleep again at night?
How many years will pass in want
of time together spent
as family in warm embrace
of all things good and right?
How many ballads grace your ears
and softly fill your soul,
and bless our lives with music sweet
before you hear the song?
Too many! Far too many years
deprived of your dear voice.
Once, you said you'd always love me.
How I wish you'd not been wrong.
-Of Betrayal-
Embers in the throes of death cast their pallid glow
upon his face, familiar now, his place in time
and name recorded in the dance of flame.
The grey-eyed sea remembers what this errant used to be:
the fearless, tearless God of men whose fingers
clutched the world, but then... so swiftly fallen.
The skies cannot recall when any greater man or beast
set foot beneath their eyes, at least since they
began to watch the workings of the world below.
His final breath he took impaled upon a lover's blade,
greeting death with open arms, fading fast together
with at-last fulfilled desire and a tender, warm embrace.
Flames of passion lit this errant's funeral pyre,
and dying embers cast their pallid glow upon his face.
-Of Inspiration-
Forgetful Muse, remember now
those frost days of spring and how
we both in happy moods rejoiced
at every living thing.
You wore upon your lips a smile,
suggesting that we kiss, and while
we strode along that thawing pond
I vowed to never miss
the chance to touch your goddess-face
at whatsoever time or place
your bold desire might allow.
Ah Muse, you then were mine.
But look how time has worn away
what once we thought we were. Today
our love now stands in shadow as
a nigh-forgotten blur.
Forgetful Muse, forgetting still
that sacred oath I made and will
forever keep until the end
of life's sublime charade.
-Of Flight-
I should wish to fly amid the violet midnight sky,
to drift along where e'er the sweet wind blows.
And later I would land to feel the soft, white midnight sand
and let the cool, green midnight grass caress my toes.
I'd breathe the midnight air and feel bright starlight in my hair,
and drink of this to quench my thirsty soul.
For no more precious sight can hope to rival pale moonlight,
nor seek to make a fractured spirit whole.