I Keep This Dark as a Memento
Eyes sunken; a window to the soul,
a path behind that bone white smile.
How ironic; those autumnal miles,
Where all dies in beautiful wholes—
Then She comes, seeking enlightenment
Edifying the monster in me,
In pretense how the god aping flea,
bluffs accordant to omnipotence.
To fame at depicting constraint,
One has to own his convictions
Conscious of his own afflictions,
Able to prevail through restraints
He becomes the rocks on the shore
And lets the waves, crash and diffuse
As those rocks he too is abstruse
like a blessed engine that implores.
How lovingly bleak is oblivion?
Purity in the storms of darkness
Quietude in poignant starkness
And the mind, the recipient—
And like an old stained glass window
The true beauty shows from within
In the lit candles contrasting sin
It gleams the shade, and its mastery shows.
In the silent storm comes a glint,
Where a tiny cast of light breaks wide
It opens the heart, becomes the guide
And obscure thoughts disperse in footprints—
–as we step, one foot then the next
scraping out a living from the soil
shedding the spites of our mortal coils,
we ascend in life’s aftereffects
Ironic, how darkness leaves its mark
And how dark thoughts and light collide
Then, if you cannot find the bright side
You can always sit comfortably in the dark.
I keep this dark as a memento
An understanding of it place
How its being is something embraced
Light without dark are blank echoes…