~ The Man behind his Mask (Part 1.)A Poem by~ A story this night as an incognito devised to save man from the vexation of thinking...
In
the streets of Venice on carnivals night He
walked, compulsive, along the water His
heart was beating as the King of his blood pressure Crowned
with the sweat that poured from his pores Dripping
out of his face, under his mask To
find her was a lifetime task Restless
and eagerly of desire to catch her this time Almost
he sniffed her fragrance, truly obsessed. Speaking
aloud, but his words with discretion, A
lost Penetrating mind full of things to do, What
his voice told him to, but He
still had no clue... Violin
playing sounded out of the street corners The
acceleration of the song, while he shook his head It
made confuse his path, it distracted him The
voices in his head were talking about his failure He
felt lost, insecure, and confused Why
he had this haunting need, that she must be abused? Closer
with the illusion than his sick mind could change Further
away from its conclusion, wandering towards his needs He
runs on pure survival instinct, to catch her glimpse Just
a mystery she was, an elusive fact, hidden far away Like
she was one of a thousand, in the crowd for him a goal But
in his eyes a true special soul... Various
ways of suffering he had faced already Glossed
over by the splendor of the night The
little boys dream was thwarted, fallen into pieces... In
the great city of illusion, and all his mind confusion He
lost the key of his thoughts, the true transmitting fusion He
walked to an oasis of self disillusion. He
shall overcome the compulsions and head made illustrations Like
an rope around his neck and gives him a feeling he chokes Tightened
with every step he takes, The
way of self destruction he makes, and now much longer... Does
not awake him yet... The
perfection to catch her in his mind is stronger The
made pictures in his mind rushed him to feel hate and anger A
neurotic sea full of heavy thoughts stormed and came along Where
the waves splashed to the border of his brain cells To
drown his mind, to numb his thoughts, to kill his perfection But
he needed his gain... To
please her, he thought, he was totally insane She
was wearing a mask Like
a million women did this night... If
his neurotic mind was calm, he could just smell her He
was close to her, but preferred to chose His
own forced direction... He
was so overloaded with his own perfumed perfection
~ Elisa
Laura © 2013Author's Note
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Added on December 7, 2011Last Updated on March 28, 2013 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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