Solitude

This one came out of absolutely nowhere... well, nowhere I can describe at least.

One minute I'm playing with words idly, and the next I had two or three snippets ready to be developed. Once I mixed those with a line that has been playing in my head over and over lately - to the extent that it became the banner for the blog once I used it (rather unsatisfactorily) in the Elegy - I suddenly had something I liked on my hands. In the end, I think this one is rather short and doesn't say all it sets out to... ah well. May extend it some other time...

So here without further ado is a 'poem for its own sake':

Solitude

We hold hands in wildering crowds
We count the hoary chimes;
Giggling evitably at tsking frowns
She is with me at all times

Even now, over my shoulder
Even as I sit this chair
She writes with my fingers
Of this life we grudgingly share

This contradictory singularity
This ballad of wicked charm...
A poem for its own sake,
Wrought of a vapid cadence warm

Her mien often comforting
Her manner is rarely kind
She incessantly commands me
To sleep; Be deaf, dumb, blind

All worlds swirl now through aether
All hinging on but a thought
With less than cataclysmic groans
Are the battles for my fate fought

The merchants of faith or purpose
The merchants of love or wealth
Now fight this losing battle
As she demurs in my stead

In the depths of my mind
In the hollows twixt hope and fear
Tales now rise and crumble
These illusions for solace dear

They offer escape from questions
They may be vicious or grand
The only friends she allows are they;
All the rest of them she strands

So bring me now these foolish fancies
So much for the hyped multitudes
Curling into her bosom, I admit;
My muse is Solitude.

-=-=-

Peace... Out!