Oh, well

Born with the blessing

that when convalescing

Beauty springs eternal

From a well, well

Being put in this position

is similar to the disposition

of one put in a well.

To turn that hopeless hell

to suitable dwelling

to turn welling of tears,

with spelling and casting

aside failures, into rays that sear like lasers.

Truth, I am seer, and page

for my story is inglorious at best.

Vainglorious attempts

I attest at sleight of hand

I've drawn dental gloves, armed to the teeth

I've drawn into sketch the breath in my chest as I breeze

into being the windy wings of cold comfort...

Oh how I'd gladly exchange them for change

Which I could use to arrange

A trip to the strangest wood stage

Where my talent would range

Portrayed in a play

of Pyrrhic victories

set to Sisyphean symphonies

The imagery is sent to me

as gift like some telepathy

to lend to me the means of rendering

A recipe, for which most feel empathy

This tragedy or travesty

submerged under mastery

like so many icebergs

It's said that greatness comes from anguish,

laced with patients, but these hollow words

Hung with all the gravity of emperor's raiment.

Hung with lase sagacity for the containment of complacence

Oh that I could change the playlists,

with my make-shift basic fate-switch

Turn the pages to ancient courageous mages

Where words were most heavily weighted

On a pulley, I'd sail with elated joy

but my days are grazed with lake, pit

and ne'er shall I escape it

My face, it rains

Sorrowful, these artful depths

Brain's, Current, Powerful, my heartfelt left

Because, oh well, all I can do is write