Beautiful Despair

How many times must I write of the moon,

to aptly gauge, the depths my heart?

How many love songs, need to be sung softly in tune,

to properly enact my most, modest parts?

*

No one wants to see the scars left behind,

as life enacts its moments of rage.

I've distorted the poetry, skewing the rhymes.

to avoid being seen, in this cage.

*

So, I'll continue to write, of tender dew drops on pedals,

caressing the fresh velvet fronds.

Of the butterflies floating, drifting high above meadows,

under the feathery veil of the clouds.

*

Disappear in the magical appeal of wonder,

the bliss the mind wants to embrace.

Surrender to the spell of faraway thunder,

mesmerized in some mystical place.

*

Then, alone in the quiet, away from your sight,

I'll return to the dungeons that await me.

Tethered by chains, in the dark of the night,

until the words on the page, set me free.