COMMISSION

AN ODE

1.

Epitaph.

Victims fail
& winds above
whisper some other tale
than love,

when it's our nature to love
only as much as we can hate

your Triumphs
are all irrelevant
your Crimes
all inexcusable

in this pointless universe
if existence
must have a beginning
it could not exist!

2.

Inaugural.

Yet , listen now: "Behold no more!
Your wide eyes must ignore
th'Golds that glisten in Th'Moment's mouth

& if Musics fold endlessly in
the comforts of th'Mind
and Silence shrouds soul
with its uncomfortable Sense

Rejoice!

for only in The Emptiness of
their own-made Joy
can men ever own Something so genuine
even their lives won't be able to destroy
it--as they perish or begin"