To His Knees

The ticking of the clock broke into
silence. His enigmatic style was
breaking free. How strange -
the freedom brought him to
his knees.

A memory of childhood passed.
An altered image blasted him
to pieces. As if some unknown
deity now held him in its grasp.
He must not let it slip, that space.
Where mindlessness began
to alter all the grace his mother
left to him.

It was as if his silence spoke
right through him. Somehow
she had come to know the deepest
secrets of his heart and soul.
Yet all her love could not account
for feelings rising from the vault
he'd thought so sacrosanct.

The ticking of the clock.
It mattered there.
Within the pittance of the
intellect he'd earned.
He felt the something more
as it was breaking down the door
to inner sanctums.

Too late to stop the blind advance.
He cringed beneath the salience
of a subtle, ghostlike glance.
And knew the unmistakable.
Her visions had been true.
For deep within the blue
that darkened into night and
dreams, her eyes revealed
too much for him to bear.

And there, within the illness
of her stare, he found that fate
was still awaiting him - out there.
No matter all the will of power.
Nor that, the tick of all the hours
he'd held up as a shield. One
glance of soul, the whole was
coming real. And he would feel
the curse he had drawn down
on her.

The moon kept waxing, waning.
As his competence was gaining
in an area he held no interest in.
Overwhelming everything, the feel.
Emotions that he'd never lent
reality in barging through. They
came, and he was lost, beyond
all cost.

As the ticking of the clock
broke into all his mighty silence.
His enigmatic style was breaking
free. How strange - the freedom
brought him to his knees...

? Michaelette ?

1/27/2004
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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