If we fail to anticipate the unforeseen or expect the unexpected in a universe of infinite possibilities, we may find ourselves at the mercy of anyone or anything that cannot be programmed, categorized or easily referenced.

October 22, 2007

My Black Baccara


What is to die
The end of all things
Slipping into a dark melancholy
Never to arise
Forgot
The omega
An endless sleep, forever ceased

Nay, a gateway?
Just another step on the long winding road
The Abbot promises flowery fields
That or the lakes of Lucifer
What is real

My shoulders get heavier
I have walked this path
I look back and see how high
Like a stack of cards
Destined to fall
A fall into disgrace and painful spite

The water runs out Mrs Dalton
Look, the black baccara begins to wilt
Is it kindness or cruelty
To cut it y the base and capture it
Capture it in its vividness in a glycerin flask
Or watch it whither away in thirst into nothingness

What is humanity
What sets us from mere animals
It is kindness or cruelty
What the Abbot says scares me
But the scholars say it is not real
Albeit they seem like shallow creatures
Immersed in narcissism rather than wisdom
I have to decide soon
What to do with my black baccara

Fiddes von Lohinvar

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