A Healing of Souls

Heal man’s troubled soul?
I fear I can do no such thing.
For how can I heal another’s,
When I see mine own,
Entangled and strangled in withered branches,
Gasping
For breaths amidst the torment,
Crushed
Under the heavy weight of lost dreams
And torturous despair,
Pernicious confusion?

Nay,
I ask you still,
How can I dance the waltz of perfect transition,
In a glide of millennia to come,
Stars’ lights beckoning,
When my footing continually falters,
Wavers,
And I stagger,
Stumbling to centuries past?

'Tis a time line of my own invention,
Like this painted mask I wear,
Thin,
Yet reassuring,
And always smiling to ones in need.
For how can I not aid those
Who beseech my counsel,
Who linger in my presence,
With tears teeming and frowns drowning?
‘Twould be a cruel endeavor, I feel.

Alas,
To turn tears into crystals,
And frowns into rainbows,
This I offer unto all,
Who cross my path,
Who have accidentally wandered into my world,
Hopefully,
Only for a brief time.
For others should not perpetually live here,
In this shade of life,
Parade of death,
Wandering emptiness that leaves only dust.

And lo,
You cringe,
Such vile thoughts upon your mind,
Upon your heart,
But rest there now,
And hide no more.
I shall guide you away from such horrors,
If you so wish it.
And I shall await your return,
If you ever find yourself again
Drenched
In the mire of life,
As I still will be shuffling
Through the bleak nights.

Yes, surely,
I may help those few find their way
Back towards their own path,
Well lit with smiles.

Ah, to nigh murder the fears,
Darkness,
And anguish
With little chats
And quiet understanding,
Allowing scars to fade…
Just a touch.
Yes,
It is in this that I revel!

But heal man’s troubled soul?
No,
I fear I can do no such thing.

********
Dedicated to Alfred
Tu es un ange de l'inspiration et de la gentillesse. Merci pour tout, mon cher.