By Evan Mantyk

Get this thing out of my mind,
It should never undermine,
It should go and let me be,
It should go and I’ll be free!

Tear it out from in my heart,
From its madness I can part,
From its gladness I can leave,
From its sadness feel reprieve!

Give me quiet from this thing,
Let the angels to me sing,
Let their beauty touch my skin,
Cleanse it of this rotten sin.

Fling me through the air of night
To a tiny cliff respite,
Hanging over emptiness,
Hidden in the safe abyss.

Let it pass now overhead
While I pretend to be dead,
Like a fire let it burn
Till it uses all its yearn.

Till it’s drowned in waves of night,
Waves of empty endless fright,
Waves of passion now destroyed,
Like a child losing his toy.

Like a child losing his toy?
That pathetic little boy,
For the moment is annoyed
Till something new soon employs.

Now the fickle flames have died
I forget just why I cried,
Something changed and time gone by,
Floating like a carefree sigh…

Like fragrant winds rushing over valleys
Passing through a pleasant small town’s alleys,
And mingling with the whispers of faeries,
Who dance beneath trees and over prairies.

 

Evan Mantyk is a newspaper editor, writer, and poet living in Harrison, New York. He is president of the Society of Classical Poets.

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