I wrote this poem for the world
to reveal the secret words
a place I'd like to conceal
if realm was not shared
the singular does not existence
no matter how the pain insists
one to the other is exclaimed
by the authors that came before

mirrors hung on the walls
with facades of painted forms
thought to be held in place
those mannequins in mortal form
frames of pleasure and of pain
trading turns in the dance
both disguised by the grief
sustaining passions of frozen hearts

the struggle moves beneath
betraying stillness by a scream
that I relate by my own
echoed in search of exit’s balm
the avenues seemed reticent
to allow what I sought
perhaps they lied in the tomes
held aloft by those who know

I found my own in slow pursuit
along the trails spun by poems
circling enigmas of the soul
knowing others also strove
to this end the words are grasped
bent to speak where mouths cannot
applied by stanzas now divulged
untidy mysteries put to words

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181012.