Lovely Lady

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I. Prologue

Oh, lovely lady whom I met

One fateful night.

Although I knew you long ago

It’s in your presence

Where my dream rests tonight.

Becoming lost in recollection

I dreamt as one dreaming with no direction,

Until you appeared to the artist

And he struck the canvas with perfection.

It’s there that you were placed

Alongside two faceless men,

Who look like dogs begging for attention.

Yet, you remain the focus of the painting

As one given a beauty wholly captivating.

It is you! It is you – the lovely lady.

II. The Antagonist’s

Man 1:

Greetings my fair lady,

It is I, whom you seek.

They call me Casanova

Because no one can resist me.

Auspicious maiden, whose repose roars

Silently upon the shores of her unrest,

She has nonetheless lured me to the shoreline

Of her mind – opening her doors.

For how can she loath a man,

Who explores all of her being?

Is she merely ignoring

The rush of blood I create within her,

And all of the out-of-body that occurs?

Was it not her gothic eyes

That enticed me?

Are not her lips

Made for only one thing?

Is it not true that her trembling

Body proves her longing?

Has she forgot the anticipation of repeating

The exhilaration of her heart:


And beating,

And beating?

Like a drum in need of a drummer

So you, oh maiden, are in need of a lover.

Man 2:

Greetings my fair lady,

It is I, whom you seek.

They call me Byron

Because my words are unrelenting.

Lay here next to me my dear

And just rest

For just one night with me

Will render you possessed.

~He places his hand upon her face~

Oh, my dear, your eyes look weary

No doubt from following mine

But, be careful fair lady

They are on borrowed time.

So do not cry during your erotic sea of dreaming.

When upon receiving visions of heavy breathing

My words manifest like soft hands


Then vanishing,

While your chest continues its heaving.

Dreamer Interlude:

Despite their brutality

Their words seemed ineffectual,

As her eyes remained still

And perpetual.

III. The Protagonist

I see the truth in the artists’ display

In creating her aspects

During the day. The light illuminates

The story behind her beauty’s subjects.

Her eyes remain hidden

Behind a gothic veil,

It is there that lies

Eyes like a crystal sea,

And have too many stories to tell.

I can see them dwelling in

Pain and sorrow.

Lying just beneath the fear

Of their tomorrow…

And their yesterday…

And their everyday…

It is the distress of their unrest throughout the past,

That causes abnormal descent

In a reality once here and present

Is now evanescent.

Dreamer Interlude:

I have set my heart upon a dark infinity

And sought for you throughout the parts of eternity

Beauty’s edge.

And so I have despaired, over how I might bring you back

Despite your hearts deluge

Instead I come to you, breaking down the wall

That separates beauty from truth.

It’s like the ebb and flow of ocean waves

Which flood the shores of your heart

When I gaze upon your despair

I see what others deny

And so the flooding of your heart

is now the flood that holds my eyes.

IV. Epilogue

I will never forget how this lovely lady

Filled the room that day

With her forever,

And the fragrance of her presence

No longer represents being lonely,

While belonging to herself only;

For now she belongs also to me

And my memory of her.

However, there is one thing that bothered me

On that fateful night.

That upon the hollowing of the wind

I heard this rhyme:

“Why do you persecute us;

For we are only faceless men?

And you are no different, or so it seems,

For are we not products of he who dreams.”

V. Postscript

I had another dream the next evening

Of the lovely lady and I eating

And drinking, in some cafe;

Deep in thought, I looked away

But upon turning my head back to speak,

I saw her staring at me.

With the same gaze as the lady in the painting.

It was then, that I knew.

Folly: A Satire