CANTO OF INTRODUCTION Beneath the sullen moon I start my rhyme Of myself, my story, this blessed verse. Telleth of great events throughout my time From the time that I from my mother nursed, Cold winters, hot summers, springs green as lime, To the times of anguish where life seems cursed. My story, just like yours, deserves all ears To listen to words that are forged with tears. Hearken, dear reader, to songs of the birds Which introduce thee to a brand new day. Honey sweet shall be the taste of my words Of wisdom that will help thee on thy way, The path of certain truth through thine own words. Maybe I can help through the things I say Help you understand the fair through the storm. May the light of hope always keep you warm. See the forces balance all love and hate And tears of sadness taste real like wet salt To the void of my mind opens the gate I shall unleash the secrets from this vault To best warn you (for some it is too late) Of thoughts that are split like a canyon fault Like when it rains despite the blazing sun And yet the storm seems shall never be done Know that my words flow from a former heart That has been crushed all too soon to this dust And to this day I seek a place to start And for my peace of mind I know I must Tell you of my tale through poetic art Through my corroded thoughts of savage rust And though it may seem like I hate my life Know that light has come from this bitter strife It seems I'm driven by Luna's silver rays That shine dark beauty on my lonely soul I sometimes question meaning in my days That seem many times to only be null Perhaps obscured by melancholy haze In all our mysteries lie a golden role That we must surely find and be content Surely this is Divinity's intent! It seems many aeons since I have felt The joys of carefree bliss I should still know Waiting long for this ice-cold heart to melt Yet each and every day seems much too slow I still stand strong through all that life has dealt While inquiring why fate has done me so Long and harsh seem these endless winter nights When I dream of Iceberg Shore's peaceful bights. I think of the moon shining on the waves Wishing for love to deliver it's boon But I am no one, a slave among slaves Accepting what is brought to me so soon Climbing the hills of hope without my staves Help me to share your gloomy peace, O Moon! I savagely rip for truth at life's core Finding I am broken, dying, no more! Is there hope for truth in this bitter state Even when there is no more youth to drain When mirror figures are tainted with hate There seems to be nothing left in this pain This has been chosen for me by my fate. How long I've yearned for a day without rain I see as dead as my life's given route Amidst the barrens there's growing a sprout Tour the mystery within my winding mind Of palace gardens where everything's fair And even the air seems to greet you kind Riding freely atop a healthy mare In such places of joy, may joy you find Step into my soul, if you so should dare It may be the thing ignoring your plea Or perhaps be what will set your soul free May all the spectrum be seen in this dirge, Bitter and painful, this never-ending song And once all seen that colors all shall merge Into brilliance that I have yearned so long And all the skeptic's doubtful thoughts shall purge The many things that had once deemed me wrong As the light of truth shall only be seen When it is known exactly what I mean. May hope shine on the soul that's black like tar And restore it to its pure, brilliant white May our demons together travel far From our minds that are weary from the fight. May perfection then be seen without mar Then we shall all sleep peacefully at night May this word of mine leave a subtle mark To find love in hate, beauty in the dark. May my words be witnessed by eyes so kind That do not judge or jump to conclusions But rather seek in me the truth to find Even through the misleading illusions I'd feel great to be read by open mind That would forgive mistaken intrusions See now what this message of mine is for In opening lines, one through one-o-four. Think nothing of my words or think a lot. Ask: is he a genius or is he mad? Think all the thoughts you want of things I've taught My message will make you joyous and sad Only wisdom will I care to have brought And may this wisdom make you all too glad That I care of what all my reader reads And the joyous planting of righteous seeds! CANTO THE FIRST I start my journey where Acheron flows Echoing lamentation’s lonely howl On past the Styx to where nobody knows, Reflecting tortured souls’ permanent scowl. Submerged in a place for minds to rattle And quiver and shake intensely with fear Brimstone blasts at the angels who battle The demons who have prepared my place here. The flames, forever hungry, burn with hate And Charon, great boatman, awaits his fare For travel across Styx to Hades’ gate Driven into a ground of all life bare. The scores of wicked souls condemned to boil In the very hate they expressed on earth They twist and scream and cry and burn and coil, Regretting starting their hellish rebirth. There’s no salvation for any soul here And the wicked cry of how hope is lost Nothing left but impenetrable fear For all who over mighty Styx have crossed. [unfinished] CANTO THE SECOND Then it was in my chamber that I awoke To the soothing calm of the crashing waves. It was all long before these words I spoke That I dreamt of the rain pounding the graves Atop the hill over the village folk. Outside I can see fog over the maze Of luscious trees and dew-kissed, lime-green grass Lining--watching the roads of Shoreside Pass. With a hasty whip of my cassock black, I travel due east toward the morning sun. Upon departure I take a glance back Rememb'ring all things that led to this run. With a little more than bread in my sack, I stay restless until this journey's done. My ears ring like the city tower bell Haunted by the bellows of lower Hell. Weathered wheels pulling a weathered carriage Long to feel the rough cobblestone streets Set harmoniously: mortar marriage. Airayin, fair town, full of ale and eats, Should wait to greet me kindly free of rage Words spoken often of their wond'rous feats And how the people seem made up of dreams Or to my virgin eyes it's what it seems. The cool winds give my brow a gentle kiss. The creaking of the carriage fills my ears Like symphonies I once knew but now miss That echo and fade along with the years. As the clouds roll I remember the bliss Of past days; I struggle to hold the tears. For much is what this life of mine has dealt Never feeling the way that I once felt. I shift mine eyes toward the vast field afar, At small children running, laughing, playing, Youthful beauty, innocence without mar Takes me to times before my heart's fraying. Sweet memories that have fallen so far Into the depths of falsehoods dismaying Dismalness that is a blunt and uncouth Portrayal of the core of divine truth. Should Death disfavor my sad, withered state And sweep me out from the bowels of my hell And take me off to the coveted gate, Let it be known and you must know this well: That a mind of regret and bones of hate And sour skin that from greatness they fell. Why's evil done without effort at all When piety is a struggle for all? Can I know that my hell is in my mind And grows with every scar and every tear? Nervous evengy: bones shake and teeth grind Helpless beneath the clenching grip of fear of living alone, unable to find Any purpose of the place for me here. Somewhere hidden must be the light beneath The overwhelming shade of grief. CANTO THE THIRD The long winter has begun already To tear life from the looming, golden trees. She is gone and to think I was ready To shelter my heart from th'eternal freeze Has made me a fool and just as steady As the briny blow of the ocean breeze Has me wishing I could easily turn Back time before Solitude's icy burn. Riding along the beaches of Shoreside, I lick my lips to soothe the salty sting Of the wild winds of Earth glorified Beneath the weakening sun meant to bring Warmth to this October day, mortified By its distance, like a medieval king So far from his loyal but starving men And living so deeply in filth and sin. I'm stuck inside the world that could have been, Teardrops made of shattered dreams and regret. When will come my awaited turn to win? When can I hold my head up high and let My troubles be lost in a newfound grin? When comes the day that my hopes can be met? When can I lay my weary head to rest Knowing there isn't need to feel depressed? Every time I close my eyes, I see you Standing knee-deep in my shame and defeat. Every time I try to scream, I hear you Laughing, knowing you always had me beat. Every time I try to stand, I feel you Pushing me back off these old, tired feet. Why did I allow this dead heart to think And let it bring me down to ruin's brink? ::THIS POEM IS UNFINISHED::