Blog Post About This Poem – Read This Post Before Reading The Poem.
Dewdrops in the warmth left by the morning sun vanished,
Reimmigrated birds honed their tunes in rigorous practice,
Oh’ senses scanned all around for a reason to be unhappy,
Back to the half nap, I fell as heartbeat found a new melody.
Soliloquist abandoned conscience and mind away from stage sat,
When walking around I hunted the soliloquist and asked,
What makes you contented? What brings you peace?
And conscience told, repetition refined the negative into a pulse.
Pulse that fueled the fascinations of a fantastic fantasy,
In which we grew a garden of Earthly heaven where,
All elements of life united and then a touch of soul,
Brought in by the senses of you and the one you love.
I left conscience somewhere near the moving stairs,
Even when I crossed the river and drove fast I felt,
The celebration of a myth I carried all through my life,
That none out there can figure a way to love me.
Oh’ many humorous insults about myself I told,
And to each joke in many different tones, I laughed,
Some I even gave a name and color for me to repeat.
Each laugh louder than before, deep in me left an aching scar.
The dead soliloquist one day may reincarnate.
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