A Fable; Part Three–The End

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But there were fireworks and this was the glory
For this is just another story
Slowly the Grey Rose would die away
And the Piano’s tunes, forgotten
The two—buried apart
And the memoirs will also fade
Yet the stars would still be there
And the moon, the sun
And the freckled sky
And somewhere would fly a Purple Dove
And a Blue Kite would fall in love with it
Glass will shatter and the pages will turn
Swings will oscillate and the pendulum will break
For such is love; a curious display

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A Fable; Part Two–Love and Purpose

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But was it dead or was it alive
What was it’s purpose?
Who was it for?
The Stars did not know
And the Moon was not sure
The Sun was perplexed
Yet the Piano knew
For it had fallen in love
With the Grey Rose
It’s petals remained of dust
Like the Piano’s internal rust
It’s stillness filled the sky
Like the Piano’s still cries
It complimented the brilliant moon
Like the Piano did the dusty room
And when the time would be right
The Piano would look outside the window at night
The Grey Rose would be there
And the Piano would sing a tune
And it was a love so complete
But doomed
Like a sailor’s ship on the island, marooned

A Fable; Part One–The Flower

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From the shadows of the empty bed
And fires of the lonely nights
When the moon stood forlorn
Was born a Grey Rose
On the dusty and barren land
Which told tales not of love or lust
Nor of glee and freedom
Nor of togetherness
Nor did it speak of evil
Nor of sadness
Or for that matter–
morbid fabricated tales
Of love lost and death
It was a tale of a scavenger
A yearning
A longing and waiting
It was a reprise–
Of stagnated sheltered dreams

Bird in my Head

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I sit in a dark room thinking about darkness
I have a glass of blood in my hands
And a bird flies quietly in my head
I do not know why
I will sit here. For hours to come. And minutes and seconds
Thinking about darkness
All the light that I lost
And I cannot look around me
There is a bear which plays the flute
And I do not understand why
There is darkness around me
And I am the light.
And soon I’ll burn myself out
As I burnt my candle turning it into the wildfires
The ghosts play the piano
And I can not dance
But I do not know why
I can hear laughter and people talking
But it must be all in my head
Yet I do not know why

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It’s like the days are not even days any more.
Night isn’t night anymore.
I am not even who I was anymore.
The sky has turned into ash, it isn’t blue anymore
The moon is a black dot, it isn’t the moon anymore
The sea has turned into soot, it isn’t it anymore
The tree upon which I gazed outside
It is not standing there anymore…perhaps it travelled north or towards a dusty gloom
I don’t know anymore
There is so much dark now, I don’t want the light anymore
I loved someone once
I don’t love anymore

Hollow

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I was haunted by the hollow of my hand
What is in it. Why
I was disfigured by the death in my eyes
Who died. Why
I was shattered by the quivering of my soul
How did it happen. Why
I was looking at the curve of my lips
Which way did they go. Why
I sat with myself once
I danced with myself once
I dreamed within myself once
Who was I supposed to be. Why