Beautiful Calamity

                      Beautiful Calamity

While my imaginations are busy creating your seamless reflections,
And my substance sings ode to your seasonal affections;
I consciously strive to liberate you from my mind,
And rejoice at my success for a few fractions of time.

Then I sit down to write again and you come back to me,
Unasked, unsought, resolute and free;
Flying like a friendly bird
Through the windows of my perceptions,
And curtains of my conceit.

Again, you manage to evolve as
The theme of my poetry,
The catharsis of my tragedy;
The madness of my art,
And the deeper I write, the closer you are.

You tear off and bring out all that my soul inherits and dreams each day,
I read you like some idolized passage of a favourite book or play.
Then I learn you like new words,
And write you like pages and paragraphs;
To 'unlearn' you, aware me, what shall I teach to my disobedient heart?

You are dissolved in my spirit like some toxic solution,
You're a sin, a poison in disguise of salvation.

You, like some concentrated acid, corrode my senses.
Then you eat up my existence bit by bit,
You lit up crimson fire in my cold, dark heart.
And burn all my truths and lies to ashes.
You preach that it's "fated love".
I declare it's my "conspired ruin".
But, whatever it be,
A 'beautiful calamity' I conclude you are.