Tyranny of Beauty


As the sun falls to the horizon

And the yellow moon begins her

Climb into the long cold night,

I am silently wishing for the same

Tomorrow that I witnessed today

In the fields of fragrant beauty.


Pushed to the edge of my dreams,

I listen to the thin space between

Each breath and every pulse, always

Carrying the burden of distant love

In a lonely place where infinity exists

In all directions but home.


All of my wounds give a gentle ache

As I find the rhythm that moves the soul

And the strings that stir the heart.

Here in this place of stone history

And sculpted brilliance, my desires

Are forfeit to the truth of touch.


Our rare moments of passion become

Sparks of sharp brilliance upon the canvas

Of an unbroken chain of memories.

Our creations become the dreams that

Can never bridge the divide, leaving

Immortality alone with our wishes.


In the end, we discover the frailty of living

And accept what we see in the mirror.

Our creations are brief, like rain drops

Dancing randomly on keys of a glass piano.

Beautiful and elegant, they give a reprieve

From the pain we possess.


Aaron Cornett

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