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Poetry Is Passion

..An Introduction?

The Mad Prince

Dressed in dazzling golden veils,
The Prince arrives at night,
His royal barge, those large black sails,
To me a vision of delight,
A wondrous child is he,
Who lives inside a dream,
Whole-heartedly a part of me,
And more so, it would seem,
As frightning Winter comes along,
The passing of my time,
Grows frantic, bold and strong,
A tower I must climb,
The palace isolated,
And edicts undebated,
The qualities of power,
In a single stretching hour,
The legendary throne,
On which one sits alone,
A promise I can see,
And status fit for me,
The lord of my insanity,
Supreme distorted being,
For me in all its clarity,
A different way of seeing,
The talents of a fool,
Lie hidden in a well,
When stirred, this ancient pool,
Can bring Heaven and raise hell,
His speech is strange and still,
He has his thinking heard,
There is no rest until,
We have the perfect word,
The frontiers of the mind,
Beyond which I have strayed,
Not always have been kind,
With infancy I played,
The mad prince in his quarters,
An eerie night at hand,
The rippling of the waters,
Before they touch on land.

De Profundis