Patterns

For there are patterns in my head,

For we are partners in this game,

We'll burn the bridge and tread ahead.

We're different, but we are the same.

I see the layers of this world,

I peel the visions with my gaze.

They set my irises ablaze,

And all the boundaries get blurred.

While history repeats its course,

I will respect what it taught me.

We're bound to dreams of being free,

Tied by the oath to break the curse.

So let us go, release the reins,

I'll lead the way now on my own.

My heart will heed the playful waves

Of trepidation and concern.

To each their awe, to each their throne

Of thorns, of fortune or despair.

But know, we won't die alone,

Together, we will daily dare

The fate, the hardships, everything.

Together, we are strong and brave.

***

The patterns turn into a scene,

I see it now: a grim conclave

Of phantom shapes and ghostly sounds,

These screeching voices in my head;

What goes around and comes abound,

The dire, pure, hooting dread.

'Let go of fears,' they command.

'We are your demons, so embrace

Your weakness as your greatest strength.

And in return, we will demand

Your lively face and steadfast faith.'

And I succumb, a wretched thing,

For in the shade of wilted grace,

I have no will to fight the sin.

***

Don't look at me, what I've become

Is filth unworthy of your care.

This is my fault, it's only fair,

My very soul—a fetid slum.

Where once was glee, now blossoms greed,

An ugly grimace of disdain.

Where spite and anger come to reign,

There, there's no place for hope to seed.

***

So take the reins! I can no more

Pretend to know which path to go,

Oh, what a fool I was before!

The patterns set my brain aglow;

They tricked me into thick despair.

I yearned for beauty, consonance.

Look at me now, beyond repair,

My soul, my faith. A dissonance

Of reveries. And like a corpse,

My body melts into thin air.

While history repeats its course,

I'll fade away into the glare.