Catharsis

“Where do you hide your poems?” She said.
“Not here.” Said I, and journeyed three steps.
“Where do you hide your stories?” She asked.
“There are no stories.” I journeyed three more.
“Where did you hide our tale?” She questioned.
“You never wrote with me.”
No, you never wrote with me.

“Where lays your cherished?” I said.
“Not here.” Said I, and regretted three steps.
“Where’s your future lead you?” I asked.
“There is no future.” I regretted three more.
“Where’s life guiding you now?” I questioned.
“Life’s left me here.”
Oh, life’s left me here.

Silence forms such clear sound, vivid life’s no longer found, all that lingers in its place is bland pantomime.

Fall into beauty. Fall through another’s life.

I’m falling.

I’m falling.

I’m falling.

I’ve fallen.

Stay still, beautiful one and tonight we’ll paint a perfect scene. Beauty incarnate, will you lend your heart to me? Part from your confines and such splendour I will hold. Wrap your warmth beside mine and we’ll avert the coming cold.

We’ll compose the greatest story, we’ll compose the grandest scene, we’ll compose such splendid beauty that infinity will envy.

Thrown in reality, with no hold on fantasy the words I laid to rest once more breathe.

“Where’s life guiding you now?”
“Life’s left me here.”