He Who Fell

On the porch

Of my palace,

Overlooking the gorge

The jovial flame dances

Blissful in my lamp.

On arrival of her love,

The singing breeze,

that descends anxiously

through forest of cedar.

The light flickers

On a cold stone wall

Upon which is cast

My pale shadow

Gloomy as the eclipsed heart

Of the sullen beast

That roams alone

In the canyon ridden in dark.

He cries senseless

begging pardon from a deaf god.

While the contented flame sways

In her beloved’s embrace

Blind to the pain

Mete out to he who crawls

Weary in the groves

Shrieking and howling

All by himself

On the never-ending quest

For the long lost companion

He once lit in his lamp.

Why?

She perched

On a leafless twig

And settled her feathers

That the wind left ruffled.

She sang,

But not a happy tune

For her heart

Was in a dark pit shovelled.

Neither the lively lake

Nor the crimson sky

Could steal the sorrow

With which her soul was laden.

Her gaze fixed

On the setting sun

But alas her vision

Sank in dark waters.

Her dream was lucid

Of places untravelled,

Of peaks more majestic

Than she ever flew over.

But what is this yearning

For things unreal?

She seeks abode

Holier than heaven.

Why does she feel

Lost in places familiar?

She seeks purpose

In parting of her beloved.

The melancholy song fades

As the night darkens

For now she marvels

Over specks of light

Oh shining wonders!

She may never attain

What her heart desires

Thus drowns her hopes

In sea unfathomable.

And in her tranquil eyes

Are fragments of a broken dream.

But in her heart she knows

Everything happens for a reason.