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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Song of Myself


Rhapsody

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Freeform poetry. Based loosely on Walt Whitman's poem of the same name. Inspired mostly by a recurring dream described in the second stanza.

 

 

I sing my name

to wind, to rain

I touch my heart

to touch a star

My shoulders ache

Invisibly raked

this ageless stigma

where once sprouted, wings

I rival angels and kings

Gods quail, Fate fails

For I am young and proud and raw

My voice is heard, my word is Law

 

Cities sprawl at my feet

Cobwebs of life and heat

Writhing, roaring, fuming

Unrefined mines

Glittering industrial gems

Lantern-light scales of soot-belching dragons

Gulping down souls by the flagon

 

But I, I choose a different path

Not foot-worn roads

Paved lanes

Or streets of gold

I travel the meandering trail

Across the vast expanse of my mind

A small soul at once within and without

Where does it lead?

Into my dreams

Across unknown seas

To the horizon and beyond

 

My destiny, my decision, my declaration

My ship of life

Sailed by

My winds, my waves, my storms

Captained by

My blood, my brain, my soul

See my soul!

Pliant, palpable, no vaporous phantom

Luminous, blazing with life

 

What spirit dares haunt my steps?

Whence from Devil or God's behest

soon finds itself possessed

by drumbeat years

unspent tears

gods I fear

A word, a gesture from me

and civilizations collapse

Heavens fall at my decree

The world bares its throat, prone, supine

at my fingertips, it is mine

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