Perils of a Writer

Alarms blare, cities fall up And my hands, scared but tenderly, cup Away from the blue, away from the sky A small, small piece of an everyday lie To class, to class now I must go To put on my face, to put on a good show A pleasure to see, what pleasure indeed For all who are met in presence and need The quibble goes on, like a meaningless fray Whispers in sunshine, “A play, A play” And those are the words that begin the song A jester’s dance, a stage for the throng And I, I dance along to the tune Mindless and dead, not nearly immune For who can resist the faceless, the masses? A soul colored white, is the only that passes Ah, but to truly master the act To take hold, to justly and rightly impact There! I say, would be a stance untethered A work that could age, become old and weathered Yet efforts are scorned, the tempo increased To keep it all in, to lock up the beast There! They all cry, is the true test of faith To wither, to crumble, becoming a wraith White is the color, as white knows naught The icy blue, a truth that is bought By stopping the dance, by standing still To let it all in, to breathe, to fulfill And I do not cry out, I do not stop dancing This is a fine art, the art of romancing Those who hide, a face in the veil Controlling, all knowing, silent and pale Each step I take, is a step I know A place where the Others allow me to grow A family, a future, a place in a line Where the dance never ends, but is brimming with wine This is the mold, the place where I fit A humble abode, sturdy, well lit The dime is not heavy, just strings attached A gloved puppeteer, not easily matched And truly, the steps themselves are not hard My soul is still white, frail, unmarred But oft have I wondered, at the end of the day What have I lost, what is taken away? To home, to home now I must go To build a boat, to pray for a flow Of white waters, clear skies, a path well worn Sets and paces, now I so do mourn The piper, he wails, laughs and taunts The torment is fair, he owns what he flaunts Jealous, I am broken, not whole, not one White, white, I slowly do shun For laying, lying, what difference persists? Beyond the shoals, further into the mists A mystery, a tale, a dance not writ And then there’s a thought, a twitch, and a flit Arise! It yells, loudly in my ear These are not truths, no vengeance to fear And magic, sweet magic, a pen in my hand A chair that sits, no feet perched on land The boat rocks from white, to blue, back again I teeter and totter, a conflicted helmsmen The song, ever present, builds in my mind Chains writhe round my ankles, burning, entwined The dance does not end, it pauses, unsure These are new places, not one of them pure The price is quite steep, the dealer dressed black And I knowingly, knowingly, sign for the Pact True blue, finally! Bliss at last Wind in the sails, ropes coiled to the mast To see, to blue sea, to truly discover Anything, everything, simply uncover The lie that they told, the lie they still tell That sucks and pulls, a deal to sell It is the hand, still chained to the table Meek, but willing, scared yet quite able A pen, a chair, a moment alone And the maiden hand is born from the crone And then I can’t stop it, the ink welling up Blue and evil, truly, wonderfully corrupt My feet dangle down, aloft in the chair The song changes melody, a sweeter affair And the words melt away all thoughts of the fear I am light, I am sky, boundless and clear The beast roars inside, proud at the helm Mastery, mastery, complete in this realm! She grins like a lion, plays like a cat Eating the words, growing stronger and fat With each new tide, a new pen does it bring A bell, a whistle, a small sapphire ring Noises and treasures, too precious to trade For all the sacrifices my soul has made But the faceless, the veils, they will not give in Slowly they remind me, remind me of sin The chain on my hand grows heavy with time My feet touch the ground, a prison for my crime I struggle, I fight, the beast bares her teeth What madness is this? I cry in bequeath, I paid, I paid! I gave up the white light But they laugh and chortle, amused by my plight This world is real, you cannot escape They dig their fingers, snug in my nape Freedom, it is temporary, fleeting like a bird What you thought, really dreamt, we simply abjured To bed now, to bed must I really go? There are still many waters, many places to row But alas, the clocks tick on and on And tomorrow, tomorrow, the words will be gone For another dance is soon underway A new audience, a new theater, a new place I must play The boat has to wait, the blue has to settle The beast in my belly taught not to meddle Inside I live, in my skin do I die The judgment is final, no room, not to cry So into the covers I nestle to bed To wait, to wait, for my story to be read The dreams are all blue, but timid in morn I am burdened, completely alone, and forlorn For even in slumber, I know all the truths I traded, I bargained, I paid for my muse Alarms blare, cities fall up And my hands, scared but tenderly, cup Away from the blue, away from the sky Less and less of an everyday lie