Proscenium Arch: Aperture of Hallowed Madness
To the jester and his cohorts there is no vision so serene,
As the halcyon days under the proscenium arch
The jester leading the throng as the mightiest king,
Skillfully leading the procession in an endless march
The influence of the crowd that gathered with abandon,
Arrayed in the finest silken attire and decadent façade
The jester swaying to and fro as a depraved phantom,
To the cheers of the masses and endless applaud
The everlasting drama unfolding is the tragic comedy of life,
Love and loss, there is no finer basis for operatic madness
A revenant king who found his immortal queen through strife,
Lovers in twain but of one heart found life eternal through sadness
They were set to wed one tempestuous and fateful eventide,
But behind the scenes there was a plot afoot most foul
The king's utmost intimate servant sought to murder his bride,
Adapting to his countenance a most murderous scowl
The gist of the Machiavellian machination at hand,
Was to lure the fair maiden to her death at the tip of a dagger
Tipped with deadly poison, that was the plan,
In waltzed the assassin with a confident stride and swagger
As the executioner thrust forth his deadly stiletto,
The patriarch of the kingdom was the unintended target
The soon to be queen ushered forth a series of screams as a stretto,
As the king lay dying his blood poured out as a stream of garnet
Her majesty knew not what to do but only be with her husband,
She thrust herself through her still beating heart with the poisoned lancet
And with her last rattling breath cried out with a heartfelt summon,
"Let our souls be taken as one and give us rapid transit!"
But alas, this tragedy is not as sad as it would seem,
Without the loss of life and turning tide of love
There would be no rhythm to this darkest of schemes,
Never having been immortalized by the harp and lyre they are so worthy of
Madness and murder is never more beloved in life as it is on stage. On stage we celebrate the cruelty that lies in the hearts of man. Every instance of degradation is lauded as entertainment. In this case we have betrayal center stage but that betrayal is overshadowed by true love. A queen who would prefer to die from a self inflicted mortal wound rather than live even a moment without her soul mate. How many people have you met who have felt that passionately about you?
True love most assuredly lives on stage, immortalized by the words of those living presently and as well as those long past. But, does it it live in the hearts of those who watch the tragedy of life unfold? I still have a spark of hope that maybe somewhere in this world an undying passion such as this awaits me. Somewhere someone has the capacity to love me even in life beyond the present when we shuffle this mortal coil and find life eternal. Could it be you? The one reading this?
Alas, we may never know...
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Imagine a love so complete that it transcends death and becomes new life for those who survive the loss. A love that says, "Even though I may not remain, you will my love. Here is your new beginning."
If you say you love, let it true. If you are going to love, love with everything you have and commit wholly. All else is folly and a fool's errand.
In the beginning our words were silent with never a sound Nothing from the world outside could creep inbound A world we shared just you and I And you longed to hear my voice you silently cried Then from in the...
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