the Eternal

These emotions... they deceive you, they deceive me.
With my voice they sing,
With my tortured soul they lie.
My bland face a mask, my body a limber puppet,
My failing soul a deserted beach.
I gurgle a mute cry on sharp ears:
On the breath of the crowd is anticipation,
Sweet and eager and lustful,
But I have no will to dance.
My act is a lost tune,
A melody just out of sight,
Lost in the nothingness of memory.

Hundreds of years the gods did party,
Playful and bored on their hallowed mount,
Till the people--the eternal play--betrayed them,
For neglect is the harshest of punishments,
And forget wields an eternal sword.
The kings of the world lie dead now,
Noble and rotten in silent repose,
Wading a sad dream of lost glory,
For awe leaves the emptiest castles,
And fear is too harsh and fickle a governor.
Rhythm and rhyme breathes a landscape,
A fantasy poets paint with a flourish,
To escape an oppressive reality,
For happiness is the coldest lost lover,
And regret the longest lingering of friends.