My Fate (Soliloquatic Sestina)
© James WF Roberts
I drink my fill, from the cup of Fate
thrown down the dice of pitch and toss, win and loss
my skeletal reflection remains in the sunlight of dawn
what to do you see of my remains? Wasted life? Burnt out body?
My heart still beats, I shall nay retreat, our passion, a trusted serenade
time remains upon my shoulder, the shadow whispers, its purpose I reject…
I, who once denied the blood, the soul that burns inside, I am not just body.
Can’t you feel it now? Pen across the paper, rage like fever, am I the dawn?
I reject the premise that I shall be forgotten. Lying naked in the arms of Fate.
Shadow—you are not needed now…you’re there to soothe melancholy bitter sweet serenade.
Look at me now? what part of me did you love? What part of me did you reject?
What purpose shall I serve? What master? Hand of God? Or whims of the mob, what loss?
For so long I had been wandering, through the storm clouds, hidden by dusk, afraid of the dawn.
But, what now—what beautiful addictions take their pleasure from me now? is this my Fate?
To love and live a thousand times, in a thousand lies, my passion, your pleasure, my soul, your body?
Don’t come around here. Don’t enter my life if there’s one thing on the menu you reject.
Don’t sing my praises with words, or verse, or intellect, mediocre songs, scare off a serenade.
I ain’t here to please if you refuse to be pleased. I am not here for insurance after a loss.
Don’t love me at all. Don’t come here at twilight, if you escape at dawn.
These words, right here, right now, are more truthful, than the longing in your eyes, sealed our Fate.
Don’t read these words. When they are spoken don’t listen, bed’s made now, your loss.
I can feel something stirring. I can feel excitement growing. But, is it just a Siren’s serenade?
Passions fade, like the sands of time, falling away. Tell me do you feel more inside, or is it just body?
I can’t look at you anymore. I can’t bear that, same air we breathe. Who’s next to make me a reject?
I know what I am now. I can see the road ahead. So what happens when I conquer the next dawn?
Will you grovel at my feet? Ever? Once you see what you missed out on. Baby it’s your loss.
You fell for at me at the beginning, I only fell for you at the end, whatta son-of-a-bitch, is Fate?
So when my name’s up in lights? Where will you be? In the shadows, begging me your body?
What sort of muse are you anyway? Leanan Sidhe? Not even a Ban Sidhe? Where’s your serenade?
Isn’t this what you wanted…me to be so incredibly low? Or did you want me to forget we met reject?
So, what is all this bullshit about love and art and inspiration, give me another body,
this latest one is turning blue, too quickly, throw it on the heap, this jellyfish reject.
I am not the same man I once was, nor could I ever be, but I see your face upon the dawn
You sweet tender voice, your heartbeat, our memories, a tonic, the sweetest serenade.
Do we measure out our gains in serene mists upon the coffee spoons, our fails, our loss?
pitch and toss. Just mindless, childish games, forever leading us to this Fate?
I will not succumb to the melancholy you whispered upon my soul, to this I reject!
to succumb to the meanderings, the ramblings, the myopathy of life, this is not my Fate…
can’t you see it coming? Can’t you see it now…my future upon the coming dawn?