For I am Troubled in my Sleep and Cannot Rest

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dream-by-picasso
The hour is late and the wicker is fading

The world fast asleep, Hydref has begun
Alone I sit with my thoughts quickening
And with my new quill let the ink run

I charted the stars a few weeks ago
Looking for signs, for omens for hope
The Sibyls came out in the sky low
Pointing to Rome, and to the Teutonic Pope

Tourmaline and Marigold shine in the light
Of my meandering mind, I nod off, pause
My hand stops in what I wish to write
The onyx of the future is clear, I rouse

Night of the world, speaks softly a faded scream
I see the future, and its moonlit pathway
In depths of despair, and in shallow dream
All is before me revealed as clear as day

I stand up and pace the room wall to wall
Read a bit of the history of Susa and the Elemites
My quill flies to my hand, I hear the Muse’s call
My vision glazed over my distant sights

Yet I struggle, for what I see is terrible and dark
A vision of shadowy graves, and seas of blood
Monstrous days, and years bereft of the lark
And over all, the visage of an Angry God

Yet again in my words I recess and take care
Why say these things, why in rhyme why at all
Doesn’t the world know how things fare
“Mene, Tekel, Fares” on an ancient Babylonian wall

I can see, yes I can see, without much effort, plainly
All I need do is fade myself away, achieve Kenosis
And Kairosis and Catharsis are beside me
And I am walking in the dessert of the Sphynx and Osiris

For the world is shattered and its sides torn asunder
The half speaks of blasphemy and imagines stars
The other half speaks of duty and its voice is thunder
And all under the heavy sky pay homage to bloody Mars.

October 2, 2006 – Konrad Tademar

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