The 'Groom-poem' to Contemplation, another 100-line poem. What do you think?
Look not for the Bride,
For she rests not by my side,
Her golden crown is in your hands,
My life still within your command,
For you are the presence,
Singularity of benevolence,
One who has stolen into my vaults,
In your ways, unearthing my faults
With your accepting rays,
Highlighting my meagre days,
Blessing all I had with more,
Despite awkward faults upon the floors;
Against my lies and their patterns,
You’ve looked to what matters
To we two as individuals:
To dance as we had before all
Those desires of what to do to you,
A queen of temptation,
When robed in false elation.
However the Devil sees you,
I will not be put that way too.
If our existence is mechanic,
Or chemically, animally frantic,
So be the reason to our survival,
Yet, in your arrival,
I chanced upon some new reason
To commit against HIM treason;
No Darwin to assert it now,
The way we live is how
We’ve been made to dance-
Or is it still just chance?
I wouldn’t want to change my feelings,
Despite the dance-floor reeling,
Illicit daydreams of a throne-room,
Built out of legalistic gloom,
Playing havoc with what truth,
I had fought it over you;
Righteousness and the right to live
Was promised, such a gift
Never forgotten, often whispered
When the saints have disappeared;
Little less than past infatuation,
Suddenly causes extreme elation,
How can a matter be clear,
When it is everything we need to fear?
So it becomes the secret distance,
A lingering affection missing;
Though doubting the road is true,
I still move the loam to speak for you.
If it were written I would see it,
If it had form then I would read it,
Turning my sceptre upon someone new,
I would believe that it would be you
For whom I am destined and designed,
From a One who goes against humankind,
Where this love still feels like lies,
It is myself whom I despise,
For air and shame are the same,
Awakening a certain flame.
A broken dance, countermelody
In your spells, spells over me;
Inebriation false summoned from sin,
Wanting fictitious growth, it begins,
Once misdeeds are sown,
Reputation once well grown,
And the Teacher must beware,
Lest he loses all he cares
About, for love is melodramatic
And humans can be static,
Brittle to promises of change,
Ignorant that future is out their range.
If in my hand resides your life,
I will not dance to remove your strife,
You try to live to follow me-
Why do you create your own agony?
Since yours is a state self-initiated,
Choruses emerged from amour dated,
Eternal desire calls through the haze,
A sunset of red skies at the days.
Lady of sunshine and of rain,
You would like me to take your pain,
Combining your hurricane
To my calm skies again,
Essentially a meeting of we two,
Letting consciousnesses seep right through
To what lies we have grown
Around yourself alone.
Look not for my soul,
Whilst yours is black as coal;
When the time is passed as right,
I will welcome in our night
Of you and I, becoming free,
Forgo my chance at eternity
For our dance- the moral coil-
For our dance- as black as oil-
For our dance where you can enjoy
Your split-second midnight ploy.
Those misdeeds may be my own,
Their influence is yours alone.