Such beauty I have seen,
That took the eyes of me,
And left me in its wake,
An unquenchable misery.

No birds in the canopy now sing,
No light of summer, No sound of Fall,
But a forgotten tomb; a sunken spring,
I crawl, awaiting Rejuvenation's call.

Standing resplendent in a baroque topiary,
Under a florid arbour as an arched canopy,
Her pulchritude in moonlight, is the plenary
Picture of, the muse, the Goddess Calliope.

My heart’s reminiscence of our first encounter,
Like a fragrance in my mind wafts around,
Whose Pareidolia in every-thing sketches her
Face, to which it is entirely spellbound.

Were the Fates to keep us apart,
As the sculptor Pygmalion I would be.
But Aphrodite won’t breathe life into my art,
For not my Galatea, I love my Calliope.

I am here to fight, until the end,
For the one thing, I think matters.
And all the while I watch around me,
My whole world of dreams shatters.

No matter how much, to yourself, you lie,
In the end everyone will surely die.
But the one who will be called above,
Is the one who chose to fight for love.

It matters not, how much pain you inflict,
How astute your spin, how sharp your wit.
And even though they may fail to infer,
To see past your smoke and mirror,

The one left standing in the end,
Is the simple one who would not bend.

Try and die,
Or,
Heed and succeed.

Where in either
does wisdom lie?

Do smarts give in,
Or,
Blindly vie.

Is it for all,
Or,
only for some.

This non-commodity,
called
Freedom.

It is not sold on Amazon,
Or
bid upon in Ebay.

Unlike a Ferrari,
no one looks twice
upon this ride
called Freedom.

It runs on blood
of patriots,
who saw the light.

Always picking up
hitch-hikers, carrying
someone else's baggage.

Hello! my love,
Won't you cruise
with me,
in my ride called Freedom.

This silence instils me with dread.
Perchance 'tis me, bereft of knowing ear.
Golden reciprocity; nought be said.
Would dialogue ensue, if thou art near?

'Tis insipid; moonless every night,
and empty; cloudless every day.
Black and blue; colours of plight!
Oh, hast thou nothing to say?

A silent whisper once graced my ears.
Sunrise over spans 'twas once frozen.
By who? The receding shadow disappears.
Why was it, that I was chosen?

In a surreal wasteland I awake;
every blinking star appears a ticking clock.
All space and time I'd forsake,
for the key to destiny that thine lips lock.

Knocking on heaven's door, questioning,
'twas her – my angel – that you sent?
Imploring the Fates; will she educe a king?
They reply: “the future is always silent”.

The signs above say:
“Feed not the caged doves.”
Fight the cage,
for their choice of freedom.
For if you have a heart that loves,
song of a caged bird will break it.

It might surprise you,
That your bird will despise you.
Both cage and you will together fall.
As you lie their battered, gasping your last few,
Your eyes shutting upon the sky, bright and blue,
She flies across them in freedom,
singing you gloriously to Elysium.

When speaking of prince charming,
The charming part is easy:
A disarming trap is simple to spring,
Shower 'em with summer's breath,
Until beguiled footsteps end in winter's death.
Entombed dreams are crowned with a ring.
In eternity, nymphs her sordid epitaph sing.

When speaking of prince charming,
The prince part is hard:
Helm the war for peace to the storm's eye,
Where Gods confess, that the angel's kiss,
The ambrosia which, the thirst for truth, slakes,
Is in the courage to stare into the abyss …
… for as long, as it takes.