Immortal Cynics

Within time’s essence

I’m omnipresent

I prefigure everything

Sometimes, I can foresee the blissful pockets of light

In the lives of others albeit

My own desolate life

Where time wills me along with the

Swift inclination of mankind’s desires

Often, I can recall that lover

Who left me lovelorn and disillusioned

Due to the vigor of unhealthy passions

That pervaded my active mind

 They existed long before I became intrinsic to time

It was sometime…

Before I became acquainted with the

Eternal Solemnity of time

Dressed impeccably, my desirable lover sat on the

White, ceramic steps leading to the stately halls of Caesar

He never adorned himself with doleful toga of black

Instead, he was fashioned with immaculate white

Much like the exaggerated rendition of him that haunted my mind

Ever since laying my eyes on him

My wandering stares grew stealthy

As they secretly stole glimpses of him

During those times he held a pensive stare

Below this thoughtful façade, a myriad of philosophical thoughts

Danced deftly through the golden halls

Of his erudite mind

Trapped within the mirrors of this hall was

Droves of sullen reflections of myself

Who were transfixed with his beauty

But, the sadness that defaced my happiness was

The realization that your thoughts never revolved around me

Even when my thoughts sought to barricade yours with

Subtle statements that alluded to my love for you

You always sauntered quickly

Out of the hall of my detested reflections

Soon enough, the manifestations of your true source of passion

Unraveled itself and became a wan lady

With your beloved golden razor, you delicately shaved her

Golden hair off her voluptuous, naked body

Till a pile of golden locks became a bed of hair

For the two lusty lovers

Once, I heard his pleasurable moan softly

Reverberate through the room

I scrambled out of his deplorable fantasy

Then I submerged myself into the pool of my tears

With my eyes closed and my passions quelled

I beseeched Hades to take me to the underworld

With the thoughts of my lover eradicated

Along with the underlying yearn that

 Engendered this overwhelming need for my submission

Unbeknownst to me, it seems that I had murdered myself

While wading through the wreckage of my dreams

Because of the poison I laced my wine with

I had no true need of Hades intervention

Through my own efforts, my reality finally blackened climatically

Yet, the plague of my unrequited passion would remain

Now, I sit within time’s ineffable eternity

Watching other lovers face a similar plight

Where their respective lovers or

Series of lovers never reciprocate

The passion that uncontrollably surfaces within our minds

Each of their ends were individually tragic and hopeless

Somewhere in the domain of their afterlife,

They have become immortal cynics of the

Bastard of romance