The Figure Poem by Rebecca Mummery

He held a candlestick,
He lit it with splintered pine,
Once an invisible figure,
Now a figure with an outline.

He paced the staircase,
He called out in question,
His garment relflected the blank conclusion,
And the ill-informed mind suited the material he was dressed in.

He drew the velvet curtains,
And they draped from rail to floorboard,
Whilst his illusions were well-fed,
His temperature had soared.

Mr.Apprehensive occupied the hallway,
And each doorway lured him in.
The bathroom was at best, un-settling,
It was then he was exposed to past's sin.

Past's sin made him draw a short breathe,
Past's memory made him epitomise,
Future's outcome hung in the balance,
And tomorrow's regret, in thought, resides.

The thoughts locked in a safe,
Red and black tin,
Red was a symbol of fury,
Black was a symbol of sin.

The price for the will to find logic was greater,
Greater than any diamond ring,
The intent behind the cause was less,
Now a puppet without the string.

He dropped a candlestick,
He showered it in running water,
Once a figure with an outline,
Now an invisible figure,
The bricks without mortar.