Okay you asked for it, ignore everything if you wish because, the goings are getting rough, you've called all my bluffs and I want to run away, but finding I can't (wont), I do not dare as I dared to care and left the rest behind me.
Coins in the bottom of a wishing well, a relic to all my unfettered dreams, a step into my private hell with all my unembellished scream...
In cold silence, I wait to hear your voice whispering
"Take me, I am yours, always have been."
Alone in the dark and weeping, keeping secrets kept, and tears unwept in avoidance of the tide of denial.
So what if I am crazed, and a little bit dazed, for believing in obsession, my confessions are for all to see. But does anyone?
Tick tock goes my clock and I am running out of time. Wanting so bad for you to be mine, yet so afraid that in the interim of my tears and fears, another battle is lost and I can't help but wonder, what the cost might be, this time around...
The ghost of the Piper whispers,
"Absolution again, my friend, will you not find solace?"
And in a croaking, cracked voice of utter confusion I say
"If only I knew..."
And the delusions go on and on and on
Meanwhile, the obsession grows
Is it what I seek, been hunting for, for weeks and weeks
years and years...
The millennium grows near and still no closer to my goal, I run through the pages of the sage I once thought I was. Through words of wit that once I writ, when the confusions were high and my doom eminent and overshadowing...
The school boy is dead but does some part of his essence (innocence) still remain? And as the silence abounds, and the blank space of the white tyrant reigns, I sit pondering such thoughts as my heart beats and the death clock tolls.
In touch with some distant reality, that once was my own, never to escape from this midnight graveyard excursion, observances made to long dead friends, feelings, and comrades on the path that I have chosen, alive and breathing still to this day.
So, I am lost or so I think, teetering on the brink, of falling yet again. The rocks are still so sharp, and the sea oh so cold, with a whisper into the night...
"Help me"
and as the bitter wind folds about me, wraps her arms around me, I catch the scent of the tomb and long dead roses...
The Jester, head in hand, grinning
"So, Poet, again you dig me up when I was so peacefully resting, departed so long ago, put to rest to let the years roll by...will there never be an end to this little diversion..." and the head cracks a smile
And again I can only whisper
"If only I knew..."
With a bit of laughter, and derision, the vision vanishes before my watering eyes...
Alone again I cry out, empty again I flee into the fields of madness, into the realm of dreams, from whence I came so long ago. Over paths once trodden by my weary feet, going now the other direction.
Into this drama I thought I had left behind
Into this nightmare that I tried to deny
Into this madness that crept into my mind while I slept
Soundly behind the castle wall
And cowardly, I see them all
My ghosts, my specters, awaiting their burial...
So what does all this mean, might I dare to scream?
I look over the fields that once I knew and with fear in my heart
Realizing that I still do remember
All that once upon a time tried to forget
Here, where I buried my heart, here, where I found it again, here, where I gave it away, here, where I soothed its wounds, here...
And where is here might I ask? Is that so much to ask for?
Oh such sweet miseries that this place has known
Oh such bitter mysteries I have sown and cultivated in this rich soil (soul)
I look to the tomb where my love once laid
Dare I...
"Free me again" it screams "you have buried me alive!" and with that I flee back to the Way of Crucifixions, on down the path away from Salvation, a few steps west and on to Damnation, and the palace where resurrections never come.
My Asylum
Through the gate and passed the locked doors, and on passed the grinning gaping guards
"So nice of you to return."
Into the cell that I broke out of, where my etchings and reams of passion still remain, again into the arms of Fantasy
Weeping say I
"I am here again my sweet dream, are you she? The on that makes the night sweats cease, the one that keeps the beasts away, hides me 'til the coming day, embraces me in the night, when the fear strikes, and with sweet kisses, keeps the tears at bay?"
"Only time will tell," says she, "only time will tell."
And the only sound I can utter, a sound that chills my soul, a sound that makes lovers shriek and abbey bells toll
The sound of that last laugh.
January 26, 1997