In Madness, There Is Beauty
She sudden sighs and away parts, never to return to me,
Her spirit, like a silky mist, with the light of Heaven, softly lit,
Slow fades as do when dreams into forgetting drift.
Though fresh stay her footprints upon my memory;
For there she long walks, roaming every thought,
Till pain, monster of my heart, harsh wakes,
And all that keeps me whole begins to break,
As Reason slips swiftly from tight bound knots.
But in madness there is beauty, bright and glowing:
A new-born peace through my veins moves light and flowing,
Joy, with sweeter voice, to the senses sings...
And the sufferings sadness has to me done, undo;
For the obliterated mind knows not what it once new,
So in losing myself, the losing of her no more clings.
Comments about this poem (In Madness, There Is Beauty by Jonathan Platt )
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