POETRY - PROSAIC DREAMS

PROSAIC DREAMS
In torrents of anguish unmitigated;
Everyone suffers their private torments.
In moments of personal hell
Shrouded by semblance of normalcy;
No one rejoices –
In the graveyard of universal posturing.

Thought I life was as soft,
As the milky glow of
A silvery midnight moon.
But suffocating and meditating
In the dreadful depths of despair,
I still cannot fathom the mystery
For when effort unnumbered
Shout life is not benign,
The spirit flickers and blinks out.
But still –
The magnificent majesty marches on.

Though thought I
Life would be as gentle
As a placid sea,
And as sparkling as
The golden flame of a setting sun;
Now I know it is wild and wicked.

Times past,
Life’s radiant halo intoxicated my heart
Like sweet fragrance of creamy magnolias in bloom;
And thought I
It was a maiden amiable and alluring;
Seductive with rich promises
Of pleasures unimaginable.
But now know I better –
That life is a frigid lover;
A goddess with irresistible charms
At whose feet I kneel in submission,
But whose smile is scornful;
Whose beckoning is uninviting;
Whose embrace is cold and indifferent;
Whose love is a song of rejection.
And so in dejection
I am resigned to a lifetime of hopelessness
Within the blackness of a heart
Where mercifully pain benumbs
In a choreography of prosaic dreams.