The tension is building –
Prospero,
But feelings are restrained
– Fortunato.
Behind the masonry of
these mortals walls
A tempest of emotions
rises and soon falls.
Oh the agony! Oh the
alchemy!
Chemistry of apathy
and poetry;
Equal mixture of
pristine mystery,
And measures of
perplexing clarity.
Honest fabrications
of fictitious history.
The One is the
backside of the tarot
Only symmetrical
glyphs does it show;
But with a flip, a
perspective inverted,
And the nonsensical
seen is converted.
When nothing more is
concealed,
When the illusion is
finally revealed...
The same rhythmic formation
of the lexicon,
The same arrangement
in the poetic echelon.
...Not as what is
seen in each sole occurrence,
But as each own
interpretation and souls’ inference.
All art, attractive artifice
and elegant duplicity,
No individual
perspective, just a collective – we.
Each a pigment in the pixel of
humanity,
A mere point in the
vast image of eternity.
Composed By: A.D.
(The third stanza (or technically fourth, if we count the single verse) is as intended (that is, it was meant to be grammatically incorrect "nonsensical"). Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy)!
No comments:
Post a Comment