To Scotland III

The following never happened.

“Hey There, pretty little girl”, take my hand when you descend and watch me unfurl, for I had no right to adore you yet I foolishly twist and twirl.

See, I do not belong here, not on this land, nor among the living but for a moment in time, I slipped from the clutches of my demons, fell into your eyes, found religion on the arching of your lips and by the Godless skies I prayed and with your waist line I swayed to be ultimately born again, anew.

Alas, it was what it was, a mere moment in time. I rose midway through my unrealistic waking dream, only to realize you’re not there, that you were never there and that all there was left was my naked reflection in the bathroom mirror and I. So I wrote this abomination in your honour as both an apology and a vow.

I am sorry I burdened you with my fiends when you had flown yours alongside you across the narrow sea. I am sorry I am who I am, a facade of a man encircling a lifelong death wish and I am supremely apologetic for what you’re probably not going to read.

Yet I still write, pathetically at that, but I do. It is what keeps me insane enough to feel while delaying my long awaited end. I will always try to find you, not to bind you but to silently bury my face in your arms, within you.

Yours true,

The idiot

Reflection

I laid on the cold wooden floor, older, colder and not the slightest wiser, facing my fears, foes and phantoms with the flames of my cigarette. As the smoke rose like doomsday warnings to unite with the sanguine clouds piercing the sky at the fall of a freezing winter day, I was left helpless, hapless and wandering through the numerous denizens of the mind.

Morose, I gathered all that’s left of my strength to stand erect from the ground only to be vexed by my own reflection

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the saddest of them all?

Said I in my usual theatrical and dramatic tone.

To my surprise and awe, the familiar face responded to the rhetorical question I sent flying towards him, he murmured:

You, master of masks, you are the saddest of them all.

Darkness is your dominion,

your kingdom

and your reign

for before you were you,

I was you

as many were before me,

you are not what their senses perceive you,

you are the saddest of them all.

As the swift, murderous response perplexed me and buried its words in my chest, the glass shattered into thousands upon thousands of particles, all screaming my name.

I woke up at the demise of the magnificent mental manifestation with my killer resting still between my fingers, fuming while it deals one of many blows destined to fortunately end an existence I one thought was meaningful.

Silence overcame me after the vision had ended, I’ve found no relief, no sleep and no rest still so I open Pandora’s box once more and alight another cigarette was set.

Yours unfortunately,

Zeus

Of dreams and the want to sleep

Who needs sleep to dream?

When each moment of the present is a realization of dreams past we’ve had wide awake,

When I can look into the skies and see creatures of myth seeping with the sun rays through the vivid clouds above,

when I can see your face in the faces of others, haunting me at times and mesmerizing me at many more,

in the faces I greet

in the people I meet

and on every side of the street?

 

Who needs sleep to dream

of future unseen,

of past unclean,

of good times ahead,

of a destiny we dread,

of ancestors long gone

and of siblings unborn?

 

Who needs sleep to dream of You,

to dream

of your eyes burning bright, brimming and wide,

of your flushed pearls when I bring awe with words,

of your flowing melancholic blackness stunning my crude hands at every awkward brush,

of gentle and benign fingertips touching my soul in my chest with every touch, or hint of a touch,

of gracious movement which turns each head

away from its thoughts,

away from its demons,

away from its trials and tribulations,

of sadness buried beyond walls I did not build, ready for crumble under my feet.

 

The former may frighten you,

but you know I merely want my peace of mind and serenity,

I only want the freedom to express,

the luxury of looking upon you unburdened from the thoughts above

and I only want

you.

 

Who needs sleep?

I do,

For in my sleep,

my dreams are even more dormant

than me.

Yours in vain,

Zeus

In A Dream