A Writer’s End

The music plays…

I have lost my mind; it has sprouted beautiful wings and escaped from my grasp. Like a star it flies to the skies – it leaves me with my empty corpse – my imagination has been stolen from me. How will I write those perfect plays? Sweet Elizabeth will never find her love again. She will never sit with that man and dine upon those sweet, blood colored cherries. The pictures I’ve painted over the years have been blotted away. Julie and Jacob will never find their way home – they will be lost in the last page I’ve written for them. Stuck in the brush of the trees; wandering until the next part is lain out for their journey. Mozart’s music will do me no good anymore – I will just see blank sheet upon blank sheet.

I dab my quill into the black liquid and stretch it across the parchment ---- and yet nothing. What enemy of mine has robbed me of my soul? My stories villains have crept into my heart and sucked out all that is dear to me. I am terribly sorry Elizabeth…I apologize to little Julie and Jacob, and give my remorse to that beautiful angel lost in the watery sea – I have failed to help all of you…never will you earn your respectful names. I sit at my desk in the hidden attic of my house…secluded from all outside woes – but sadness still finds me. I scribble upon the paper and all I can produce is meaningless, impractical nonsense. How unethical I have become…how incompetent I am.

The notes skip…

What good is doctor without his patients my dear? What good is an actor without his stage? I envision a beautiful setting – an innocent youth – a tragic end and yet it all becomes fruitless words. Since when have my manuscripts…my signature writings become….words. No, that is not right – it is to be music, beautiful, serene….calming sounds that flow like a cold ocean – never is it to be words. What a terrible end this is – what a loss this has become for me. Oh sweet Julia that played upon the orchards, capturing the sweet savoring smell of life. My beloved Alex… such a charming boy and yet to meet his lives passion. My gentle essence why have you left me so lost? Have I done the heavens wrong? Have I unknowingly sinned in my years? I am struck with grief my almighty Zeus. I lower myself for you infinite Daemon – give me back what you have taken. The melody has left the musician…creativity has run from the artist. I have been wrong…I committed a heinous crime. Oh I beg of you tell it to me! I pray to thee speak of my wrong doing! The useless ink on papyrus bleeds with my tears. Black shadows wash away onto the wooden floor.

The tempo grows…

The chiffonier falls at the falter of my hand. I hold my shameful poison in my palm and let it drown in the liquid of life. My eyes gaze upon the clement mixture as the petals of a plague caress the pure substance. I have become a tragedy of my lost fantasy – how marvelous and flawless these things are. Time steals the day – minutes lose meaning – seconds forget their chime. I ponder upon falling thoughts – metabolism shifts….as all breath and body leave all animosity. Glass so smooth against my lips, a port for the sweet desolation – slowly, dragging its torture the solvent moistens my throat. With a twitch of my fingers the crystal goblet is lost to the ground – shattering into translucent dust. My body slides to the boards…my head meets the dead tree and my hand find its place as a blanket for the new dust. As the bed of roses is put out for me….as all concrete matter fades away…I find dilute images dancing before me. Elizabeth smiles at me with her lover at her side….and the sweet fruits on her lap. Julie and Jacob caress their mother will love….Julia hands me a lily plucked from the garden…Alex walks towards his dreams and the antagonists of my written nightmares become harmless figures. Then my eyelids start to challenge me – unconsciously blocking out light…..my breath meets a wall….and my heartache dissipates. In that last trice where all ends meet…my sanity…my beautiful mind…finds its way right back to…me………

And all reality washes away….