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Subject:The Fool
Time:0014
once upon a blushing moon... the bard he sang a single tune....
awoke the sanity of this loon that lived neither night nor day....
and entered Hope the dancing harlot... she filled his heart with wine so scarlet...
aflame she set him bruised and battered yet he fights another day...

and wanders Envy into his fort... she slithers poison down his heart...
what once a palace now a hut and empty with cold dismay...
whistling away his life's own parody... this wretched venom he finds no remedy...
smiling away this stinging irony, this closet poet waltzed away...

a whispered sigh, a crooked grin... guilty shoulders and a life of sin
a lifelong riddle, an enigma within.. and questions that lead astray
and though the stars fall from the sky... or the angels weep and cry
the madman tries to learn to fly... come restrictions come what may...

sitting on a paper moon, a crumpled heart has spoke too soon,
much ado for a classic loon, to let it go away...
a scribbled tragedy on the dawn, the madman mumbles "oh begone!
this stifling fate that lives beyond, this colourful shades of gray...

too much hope has been deceived, give! they say and you shall receive,
still pending little bits of my beliefs, oh forever let them stay...
a wandering bliss that one must heave, as sweet as sorrow is a parting gift,
a new year's longing for new year's eve, dont wish it all away!"

over the moon and on cloud nine, walking on air and heaven divine,
grins the madman as he defines, 'twas nothing left to say...
this humble ode that he designs, though jagged, rough and unrefined,
was for a smile thats hard to find, yet it found him today...

an old junk from my rusted tin chest....
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[icon] The Fool - poetry is the art of self-expression
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View:The Poetry Billboard. Quarterly Literary Review Singapore.