Echoes

Horrid echoes

Horrid echoes of what was

what could have been but never was

resound in my head like a colossal bell

horrid echoes of what I thought

hoped you were but really you were not

and such scores of amorphous ghosts

dance around me to a tuneless song

specters of the man my imagination bore

my adaptation of you was magic and more

his ethereal eyes guised perpetuity as short

this man died when you I truly saw

on the rug that you sat when I tried to draw

the face that seemed more than it was

like adjacent cords of the eloquent cello

with incongruent frequencies our hearts do throb

so you saw but comprehend you could not

 and now here I am my sweet Pablo

the blueprints of my soul to you I have shown

still on the bleak edge of an abyss I stand alone

hearing  nothing but these horrid echoes

if I should jump only I will feel the fall

I have a bad taste down my throat

The noise is really terribly hollow

Oh these horrid echoes!

~ by elfish dawn on February 3, 2010.