Amoroso ,
My mind is open wide, as your mythos is all that I require…
You will never know how your mythos was all that I ever required (a torch) but now my mind is on fire.
I am held by the words of a liar, an unwilling disciple. Your ignorant dreams have hurt, made me deranged. You laugh when we are together; you laugh at what I have learned (the hard way) just like you…yet only I understand.
As I wait (for what?) I wonder, do you hear the choir?
On my part there is this misgiving. A misunderstanding? An intuit unanswered?
A yearning so cruel that both of my soles are burned, while solidly on the ground…while yours ran. It hurts.
Me run? To consider this, absurd. I am falling fast. Crashing, now struggling to hear why you struggle to forget. I am confused. Is the Maker playing a game, yet again?
I will soon lose you, while both of my feet remain planted in the ground. I am determined; such is with the carry angel. Release me and I will release you (I beg) for I am not of your world… (yet?)
Premature calls to the universes… remnants unsung. Why? My smile has turned to gypsum… because I flirt with these words. If I ask in some other tongue (your repartee) will you take meaning? Your language bewilders me, suspends my soul.
Your negatives ensure my life, your positives ensure my death: Reverse ecstasy, a cruel archetype. I wait for you no longer. You beckon to me from a river that would drown us both.
I am beautiful. You are a beautiful coward. My spirit abides nonesuch. I have lifted many stones. My lapses have become disasters; your lapses have given me cause to move further away (from the river in which you slowly drown.)
Release me, you withered hand! These tributaries are so strange. I have had enough. You cannot see me, so I must move on. I would beg another lifetime for us, but from whom? I wave to you (sorrow) as I watch the river take you down to the next refrain…
Your arrow is broken. If only we were not of the same tribe, then I could hate you.
I peer out from your eyes, Old Man, and feel the time running (like your river, like you). You shy away, for you have memories to spare, never considering the cost. I wonder why.
If I ever said I loved you, it should have been a lie, but it isn’t. I must prepare to say goodbye before I perpetuate the mistakes.
Alas, I am a lot like you, Father. Long may you run.
K.P.
*For those who cannot confess
