Speak

And there's the song,
I sang to you,
And there's that,
Memory again,
And there's that thought,
Ne'er expressed,
And there's that insane,
Streak again,
And there's that biting,
Look you give,
And there's that scathing,
Wound again,
And there's that silent,
Ineptitude,
It creeps on me,
Yet again,
I lose again,
The Eastward urge,
Drawn Westward,
To you am I,
And there's that foolish,
Look again,
And there's that wasted,
Inward sigh,
And there's that painted,
Face again,
And there's that happy,
Mask again,
And there's that cruel,
Indifference,
And there's that,
Disconnect again.
And there's that thought,
Of absolution,
And there's that creeping,
Sin again,
And there's that slanted,
Look of disgust,
There's that planted,
Cruel word,
And yet there are still,
Feelings 'ere,
So strong that they,
Appear weak,
And there's that selfish,
Inward urge,
To break the silence,
And to speak.

An Apology

The beast within me,
Grew and grew,
'til writhing I,
Drew it out.
And then all hell,
Did break loose,
'twas a monster,
Without a doubt.
It spoke in words,
I'd never use,
Burnt all bridges,
That I would tread.
Blood red colour,
Repugnant hues,
It painted in my,
Sorry head,
And all around me,
It wreaked havoc,
Until I was,
Alone again,
And then retreating,
To dark abode,
It did give up,
Its thoughts profane.
And all I cared for,
It had damaged,
And I was filled with,
Inward rage.
And no self pity,
No sorry thoughts,
Would turn it; the,
Repulsive page.
And as the morning,
Again draws near,
Begins the task,
Of reparation,
Though the beast,
Doth make it hard,
To make the eastward,
Preparation.
Loved ones,
And other friends,
Know naught of this,
Torment,
Of this beast,
That lurks within me,
Filling me with this,
Lament.
And I do seek,
Their forgiveness,
Undeserving,
Though I might be,
Forgive me,
For I am trying,
To tame it on the,
Eastward journey.

The meeting

There was a pub,
At the end of town,
Where gathered many,
A wayward clown,
The East most point,
Of town it was,
And so when I had,
Come across,
The dusty building,
I gave a pause.
The dingy lighting,
The musty smell,
Its very purpose,
Was to repel,
It didn't fool me,
For a second,
In hindsight at least,
This I reckoned,
A den of vice,
It seemed to be,
Yet it seemed,
Known to me,
The bartender,
With glint in eye,
(He seemed a rather,
Jovial guy),
Asked if I would,
Like a drink,
And I asked him,
For a glass of milk,
He looked upon me,
With consternation,
Yet there was,
No altercation
And soon I sipped,
Upon my milk,
All alone,
In my ilk,
And just when I,
Was growing weary,
She came to me,
This damsel cheery,
On her finger,
A compass she wore,
Her glass was empty,
She wanted more,
Yet 'twas not ale,
That she was drinking,
She was no lass,
With spirits,
Asinking,
Her voice was as,
Smooth as silk,
As she ordered,
"Another milk",
I felt shy,
(I don't know why),
To strike,
A conversation,
But something told me,
Perhaps her smile,
I was under,
Her observation,
"You travel East?"
She said at last,
I felt nostalgic,
Of my past,
"Yes", said I,
With cheeks so rouge,
Feeling like,
Such a stooge,
"Good", said she,
"So am I",
A good companion,
You shall be.

A warrning

And as that voice,
Of Him grew stronger,
Everything took,
A little longer,
Curiosity met,
Many a catkind,
Some of which,
Had Eastward hunger.
And so their mind,
Found a voice in me,
"Travel East,
And we shall see".
But the rumour,
Of the beast was growing,
Ashmeth, and,
Her forest knowing,
Many had rested,
But in vain,
In her forest,
To find no gain,
And no one knew,
Who she was,
There was no news,
Of her cause,
But all who met her,
Spoke but naught,
In spiders' webs,
They were caught.
And so there was,
No information,
No guidance,
No inspiration,
We all just knew,
Of the beast,
Who ate those souls,
Who travel East.

The calling

As far as I could,
Recollect,
They always told me,
"Introspect",
But as the store of,
Life grew full,
I found myself,
A raging bull.
Then grew my thoughts,
Towards the East,
Towards that solemn,
Wondrous League,
I heard of all those,
Who had departed,
And those who had not,
Still yet started,
I heard of Ashmeth,
Wondrous beast,
The bane of all those,
Who travel East,
And I rose each morning,
To greet the Sun,
And knew each day,
It had begun,
His voice did start,
To ring within,
"Behold I rise,
Watch. Be still.
Come to me,
And my league,
End your weary,
Soul's fatigue,
I rise each morning,
And so must you,
And by the day,
Travel East".

Evensong

The woods were green,
And full of fragrance,
I wandered searching,
For the beast,
My demons freely,
Took a chance,
Upon my soul,
To take a feast.
I grew weary,
And tired still,
On the path,
I trod on,
My sight grew dim,
Yet was a will,
To overcome,
And carry on.
Behold! I saw,
The beast appear,
Resplendent, blinding,
As I drew near.
Her name was Ashmeth,
She stirred my soul,
And left nothing,
But an empty hole.
She looked upon me,
As a child,
And I felt like,
Twice the man,
Innocent thoughts,
Thus defiled,
Somewhere else,
They grew and ran.
And then my demons,
Found a voice,
"In her you must rejoice".
And so did reason,
With sweet abandon,
Give way to passion,
And evensong.
As darkness fell,
I fell from grace,
No more man,
Just a beast,
Yet in the morning,
He rose again,
He said to me,
"Travel East".
I could not hear,
Still His calling,
To Ashmeth,
I had lost my will.
In her beauty,
I found my fill,
Eastward bound,
I no more was.
My demons grew,
Strong within me,
No longer could I,
See the cause.
And soon I had,
Taken root,
In the forest,
Of her love.
I blossomed,
Flourished,
Grew removed.
And there was,
Ashmeth,
In evensong.

Hushed

Violent art,
Within my soul,
Shall drive,
A haunting reverie.

Meandering thought,
Within my mind,
Shall blossom,
Into revelry.

Yet we shall think,
Indifferent thoughts,
In silence,
Unspeakably.

The moment now,
Shall soon be past,
Leaving but,
A memory.

But none shall seek,
And naught shall find,
True meaning in,
My poetry.