september 2004
inspired by TMGS

"April Love" by Arthur Hughes 1855

How long must I languish in this prison?
My soul lies in a cold, dark place, so
Twisted even the wind laughs at my plight.

Walls of confusion, disappointment, fear,
Disenchantment and pain vanquish every
Last tiny drop of hope.

I've spent so long in this place, that
I seem to have forgotten my fondest dreams;
I seem to have forgotten my self...

Through rusted bars, I see the world
Spinning, everyone seems to live
Free, while I just exist -

Alone - for an eternity, but when
The night comes, I feel even
More forsaken...

The porridge I'm served poisons
My soul - life force-feeds me
Images that test my soul...

...a plot to enrage me, to make
me jealous, make me explode,
make me a real offender...

Images of held-hands, warm
Embraces, touching mouths,
Merging bodies, uniting souls...

...that which I yearn for so
Much, with all that remains
Of Me.

I want to go on hunger strike,
But the tiniest echo of compunction
Doesn't let me euthanise.

Even Papillion would not have
Withstood this level of harrow for

Melancholy is my only visitor,
And she is not there for my health.

What did I do to warrant this

Through the bars again, I look at
So many who deserve this prison
Much more than I.

Those will half-a-heart, with guile
On their mind, and with carnal impetuses.
This world praises them and all that they do.

But now my heart is colder and
Harder than theirs' ever was.

I've been on trial all my life,
Yet no advocate has come
To my rescue.

Every day I'm questioned even more,
I cannot defend myself - I have
Nothing left with which to plea.

Down I go, deeper and deeper,
There is no jury, and this trial
I endure has no connection with fair.

I'm in a prison, from which I cannot
Escape - I have condemned myself
To a life sentence of loneliness.

I'm guilty, of course!
But of what?
Of gentleness, honesty, sensitivity, and being true...