Melancholy Of A Dreamer Poem by Jonathan De Vocht

Melancholy Of A Dreamer

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A prayer's song exalts, in a vale of transcedence,
A muse; and ev'ry austere notion she does transgress.
Reaching a spheric eminence, i bestow'd credence;
She exudes a benign aura, and wouldn't regress.

Poetry, without words, reveries, without sleeping:
Inherent to this Arcadia, left to disdain.
Yet for me, viable, discern'd in th'whim of weeping.
But the zenith in this serene, opressed the profane.

They descried a void, within my hypnagogic cloud,
Wherein th'efflux of streams act and diverge with the woe.
A hegemon of love, to wich man adherence vowed,
And appeared unknown, the dystopia of a foe.

In complacency, she persists to erect and say,
Through God's effigy of good-creating: ‘thou too didst'.
Proved intrepid, beyond platonic words, in the sway,
‘tween Scylla and Charybdis, to choose the path amidst.

Her congenial essence, in a lateral sojourn,
Meshed with my zeal, yields a transient elegiac caprice;
And mutates into the most-loved woman, I for yearn.
In elation, walkes with me, as peers, the hems of peace.

Our concord, to utterly abscind with the mundane,
At the depletion of the lay, with my paltry state.
Her remote poignance elicits a tear, so arcane;
Inept to scatter gleams through its spectrum, or sedate.

So, fallen to this sphare, engulfed by th'impious swells,
It was dispelled, and she left an unheard, wailing moan.
Echoing through my fancy; fading, my sentience tells.
I remained, as I awoke, in solitude, alone.

Saturday, January 31, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: meditation
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