The Climax
When waves come to standstill,
the Ocean of emotions parts
to make way for the overkill -
an ego injured with fate’s darts.
The poet draws out its magnanimous weapon,
but this is no battlefield for words.
The fiend then solitude does it beckon;
And so it arrives in malicious herds.
This solitary dialogue is no mistaken friend
it’s sweet nectar laced with deceit
the poet’s failed attempts to transcend,
ink now flows in the color of defeat.
Forget the breath, forget the sight
soothing familiarity no longer lingers.
An authentic surrender in its finest might-
breaks the chorus of empathetic singers.
The waves are now set in motion,
the poet’s left lusting after the thrill,
drinking the potion of mortal devotion
imagination then, becomes his bastille.
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