can I love you without fear?
I can not read your mind, my dear;
I’ve been a thousand times betrayed-
are you for real, or am I being played?
may seem close but that’s not the answer-
you may just be a very good dancer,
so close you may easily stab me in the back,
and give my heart yet another crack.
that pain’s the price we all must pay;
the blisters burst on our feet of clay;
we don’t need wilde Oscar to show us the gutter,
or the starry-eyed dreams that send hearts aflutter.
surrenders his personal desires-
the loves of his life to time’s immanent fires
from the very first breath to the last great vision-
all are petty diversions from this lonely decision.
there is hope, but it’s very far,
as cold and faint as a distant star,
inhumanly unreachable, but for those dreams
where the Ocean’s full-filled from our crooked little streams.
in the balance, playing at Art,
a harmony unheard by each separate part;
what seems discord the illusion of cause,
when nothing exists than what ever was.