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:
Beating,
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
Touching,
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.
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