A Dream Regarding Michael Perekrestov
The Ruined Pedestal
Pressing in, each taunting alike,
Their voices faltered, swaying
He noticed me not upon my perch
Hissing as if they were to bite,
I drew myself in as they leaned
Malicious eyes at me gleamed
All hope from me did perish
That precious self I cherish
Snatched away in viciousness
Naught left but grey wilderness
I folded my arms about my head
They tore at my ears instead
Lies and truths mixed as one
A darkness blotted out the sun
Thinking no longer of staying
One by one melted to vapour
Back to he who was their maker
I opened my eyes to pale light
Soon warmth restored my sight
Far below the ruins tall
Beyond the pillars and their pall,
He walked with ease on his way
Noticing not aught but the day
The serene majestic carriage
Dissolved the shrews' cold barrage
No falter in his step did lurch
But glided on, diffusing peace
A goodness that would never cease
Silent amnesty fell upon the air
Though up to him I did not dare
To disturb his musing ramble
With currish speech and bramble
He continued on out of sight
Gently purging every blight
Now I am alone on my stone bed
Thinking on his visage instead
Note: This is Italian in content.
Mr. Perekrestov represents Beatrice in the Dantean thought and is merely
there as a representation of philosophical interest.
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