Post Halloween Blues

The Seraphim and His Succubus

Act I

There was a haunting silence looming from where they laid --
from where old rendezvous congregate their familiar serenade.
Beneath the eastern sky, he looks westward with resolute awe --
therein the questions, she for purposes of conclusion draws:

She asks upon him, “My Dearest Sir, do tell when...?”
He without reservation, utters words --
like from thoughts of past, he penned;

“O Maiden, for the love of me, consider this modest premise:
Let these verses, your subtle ears, they solemnly kiss:
It shall be the day when music loses… its poetry --
And only bitterness is heard betwixt notes of symphonies .
It shall be the day when the vast horizon loses…its art --
And its beauty thereupon burdens no more a once buoyant heart.

It shall be the day when you, My Rose --
I’d treasure only… for your thorns,
Thence depluming the petals of pledges,
once blindly, from upon which miracles—
its birth, have faithfully been sworn.

It shall be the day when I’ve bled my last grief
For the unfettered thigmonasty –
I once relished upons’t you Milady,
For You, of whom, is My opiate leaf."

{ Their eyes then departed each others entwine;
…‘twas a pause, nay a silence, infinite in its end –
An eternal stasis in the autumn of tear descend,
hence once saccharine, now, became mere bitter wine.}

(end scene)

Act II

…There was an unsettling stillness from where they laid --
from where their innate singularities proposed alignment.
By the unison of clockwork metronome, their hearts swayed;
Therein the questions, for finality, she solicited a tad more,
“Beloved Sir ‘tis the last query then nevermore
Why, amidst all…Why…? -- thine answer now I implore."

The gaze of him from within the reflection of her eyes
mirrored the words his soul long kept hids’t;

“O My Amour, ‘tis like asking breath – Why air?
‘Tis like asking Sin – O Foul design! Art thou forbidden?
‘Tis like asking Abyss – Oblivion, O, Art thou Endless?
‘Tis like asking Death – Angel ,’Tis you… God? "

{ Unmask if you will, My Muse, the bent exclamations --
The questions cardinal in number
( equal to the sum of one and one).
Rhetorics that always remained unasked…unequated
...UNDERSTATED!
For it is, as it is, without eloquent reason --
An answer... (The Answer!)
from which humble lips, dare I say, not behold. }


--epilogue--

...Answers unfolded in the twilight of the night,
when Seraphim and Succubus --
In their Divine Matrimony spawn Cambion.

Inferno… Purgatorio… Paradiso…
You… You… You…
Paradiso...Purgatorio..Inferno..
Me...Me…Me…

(end scene)
------------------------------------------------
Exeunt Playwrights of this poetry’s narration:
Seraphim: He
Succubus: Her memory
Cambion: Still utterly Unknown?
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--the end--

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