Visceral Struggle (Swan Song)A Poem by Henry KroneThis poem tells the story of a forlorn Swan that finally finds his true love but ends up discovering she is an illusion of his own desperate desires.
Part I
The night, no moon in the sky The wind, full force as to fly The cold, as to numb the blood The trees, shadows the vision flood The night, dark blue in the water The wind, of rose is the howled attar The cold, close to freezing the lake The trees, static dormant to a shake The night, solitary is the dark The wind, momentary is its mark The cold, nearly settled is the doubt The trees, silent is their spout The night, the wind, the cold, the trees A Swan glides with an asynchronous thread Feathers in the umbra, the heart partly dead He has lost his dearest, his alluring arch Spring isn't coming, no September or March Once there was another swan To make the lake shimmer with dawn Their courtship was the core of the pond A rare gem of opal coloured their bond Unlike gems, though, be crushed love can And it was time's deed right there and then She now is in a new safe haven And left was him with an egg of a raven In the midst of this midnight dreary The Swan was forlorn and weary But the clouds of metal became of cotton The grey marsh sudden, was brief forgotten A shred of light, two lions glowed Their manes of fire their passion showed "What a scene" the Swan had thought "That's the fervor my heart had sought Forever bound by a curse of ice I am void and there's no price To unlock me from the eternal dream And let me find my lion gleam" Still, the sky is yet so white And the past gloom cannot him fright At his right the Swan stare Intrigued by the unceasing flare A piglet and a spider, what a scene Why are they ringed by a sheen? In the night, they play like friends Fight, discuss and make amends A web of favours and support Parades of gratitude are never short "Oh, is it fondness what I am lacking? Is this why I am ever cracking?" Now the display is certainly over And the Swan hopes to find his clover No more than ever he is so keen To live anew and be serene The night enjoys the happy mood And let the moon stop its brood The clouds, at once, no more than mist An ethereal cast, will this be a tryst? The moon glitz on a past reflection A female black swan of mystic complexion An owl hoots afar and is dismissed As the hero sings after being kissed: "Where have you been, my dove? Why did you leave, my love? I was so lost in here Without your voice to hear Without you to kiss me Without you to bliss me I was just a shadow Missing the rain and the rainbow But now I can see life And each thing is so rife I will give you my heart So we won't fall apart" Part II Night, the moon is sublime Wind, tame like no other time Cold, feeble against heart's motion Trees, mere pawns in this ocean Yet silence cannot much contain The disturbing growls of owl disdain It thrives with strength, to fill the lake To kill the love and pleasure take The Swan, still, has just eyes... no ears So to halt death from ousting his tears Joy runs his body with iron vigor His love denies dearth of such rigor The courtship swims with celestial sync In an opal ballet of black and white ink Lastly, his arch the Swan can complete With a dubious promise of endless heat: "Our past is antiquity and shall be erased The future, fertile, a wish to be chased Let us embrace and with nature be one Me and you, the rest will be none. Though, I will only expect your happy devotion No fear, no sadness, no other emotion You are my minion, and mine in exclusive Is this what you craved in your hope elusive?" The Swan is soon hesitant of the deal His novel grasp masks her appeal: "Your words of ice burn down my feathers Your crooked intentions prevent us together I was foolish in you to trust my belief Your offer won't stop my desert, my grief Love can't ever be monochromatic Yes, there are moments one's ecstatic But endless joy is not the way It will prevent freedom and will me betray The value of love is shallow without anguish of partition The bones of love are brittle without a conflict's remission" The eyes of the black swan fumes in red The clouds, the moonlight they shred A tempest thunders over the misty lake Out of the haze, the bird is now a snake: "Your faith is missplaced in a callow profile Your passt came closse to you beguile You think your luck in love issn't departed But you are full of sself-pity, fainthearted Honesst love iss the piercer of my power And IF you find it, I will to you cower Yet you have nothing; you're dessperate for ssomeone Had welcomed the deal, you wouldn't be undone" The water spreads cold with every heartbeat The quick rime sings Swan's defeat The snake reveals its fangs of ink dark And bites the Swan, a sanguine red mark All seems lost to this tragic hero A heart's betrayal in the absolute zero Until a hoot echoes through the trees And the bird finally the owl sees With claws of steel, the snake it slashes In response, lightning flashes It breaks the ice and the reptile sears The Swan is now saved, but not from his fears A boy wakes up in a nice little room With a painting of the lake and a flower in bloom A bee buzzes around about the place And in the White Rose, lends with grace Both make a sound akin to a chatter They seem happy with their talking matter The angered boy, annoyed by the insect, Into the painting, the bee he projects With a new aspect thrown away He burns down reality's display And when a dove finds its way out The man its wings brake and his out route © 2021 Henry Krone |
StatsAuthorHenry KroneSão Paulo, São Paulo, BrazilAboutAfter several years of reading and appreciating poetry, I finally decided to write my own poems. Two years ago I completed my poetry anthology, telling the story of my own understanding of love, life,.. more..Writing
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