Tear soaked paths light up on his arrival,
Tombs and tombstones gladly slip their arrest,
Thinking souls awaken for their revival.
This man from the future knows little or nothing,
And he finds enjoyment amidst these past beings,
Whose thoughts uncover the intelligence hiding,
Whose words unleash a multitude of feelings.
Galileo's inquisitive aura and his magic pie,
We exchange our views on the rings of Saturn,
Ramanujan's curiosity illuminates the night sky,
Clusters and chaos now make meaningful patterns.
Shelley dethrones the monarch and his oppression,
Relentless idealist sparks the hope for perfection.
Diderot re-coronates Reason in the place of god,
Heaven's angels now make Earth their abode.
At home with the dead's wisps and whispers,
Each meets the eye and touches the empty soul,
Always more than the living in their wholesome flesh,
Yet never better than accompanying Mary on a stroll.
Her rosy cheeks repel the rust of creeping complacency,
Blooming roses wither in comparison to her beauty,
White robes that are imbued in novel individuality,
She ropes the ideal and the real in a single personality.
A fool is one who takes her companionship for granted,
Imlay may speculate but he lost the best of womankind.
For having left Mary and little Fanny amidst the Revolution,
To conversate the prettiest yet basest of womankind.
She could accompany this frequent guest on his trips,
Challenge and educate him on stocks and solar eclipse,
For her presence will fill the innate void left by nature,
Love and life will connect through our relationship's aperture.
But, her presence beside me is only a dream within a dream,
Maybe an unhealthy result of obsession with ideal extremes.
The ideas and structures that govern our mental space,
Give rise to our actions to put things in its rightful place.
Fantasy fades into fear as the Sun creeps above the Moon,
Friends of the night fall into the pits like leaves in monsoon,
Fascinating Mary falls asleep as I attempt to feel her flesh in vain,
Faithful in my dreams to find her reflection outside these gates.
Invisible walls block my attempts to reach and feel,
Cold, hard walls stare back in the ordinary world,
Walls of destiny and time thwart my attempt to love,
Wollstonecraft: my fantasy and opiate in this opaque world.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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