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Suffering's Lyre

Can there be happiness inside
anything but loneliness
with one idealised vision -
 
Matilda, Beatrice, even a childhood pet?
Freed from consternation by
a burning of the soul
 
on Heaven's great, refined pyre,
so what remains is loveliness
unfatigued by time, or suffering's lyre,
 
which plays always on earth...
The trunks and leaves are lit by one
serene and understanding sun,
 
followed by night's caressing of the trees
and streams, that is not seen
in city nights, or days,
 
where I sit now,
to dream of walking in Eden
beyond this place where beauty lies
 
with melancholia.
Where suffering's lyre
complicates all holiness.
Written by The_Silly_Sibyl (Jack Thomas)
Published | Edited 26th Sep 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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