Looking back and forth from the Dark to the Light,
One finds a haven that's peaceful, devoid of the fight.
Here, one can relax, sleep, or merely think,
Time moves by slowly, with an hour to every blink.
People may say that this calm is unreal,
But to those who know, it is simple to feel.
It is at its hardest when the fight is near,
For then one is concerned, and is blocked by fear.
Here one remains, allowing both mind and body to rest,
It is ideal to do so, especially before a test.
Or perhaps it is to allow one's mind to find,
One's own identity, beyond that which is simply signed.
It is peaceful here, but one cannot stay forever,
For life moves on; its tie we cannot sever.
While we may return to the world despaired by the fight,
We know our way back, so we will survive through the plight.
Life is simply complex, and can really come at you fast,
But if we take the time to find the calm, we will outlast.
For no matter which path one chooses to take,
If we can be calm, it can remove that which is fake.
Often as we sit, waiting for something to occur,
The force is felt, that feeling we have to endure.
It is comprised of irritation, anxiety, and sorrow,
And of course, the wish that it'd happen tomorrow.
People feel this force, almost every single day,
For it affects every event, no matter how far away.
The more one calls for the event, the larger the force grows,
For it heeds the calls, but the event doesn't come with simple woes.
Within impatience, people quickly become angered,
As the yearning grows, and becomes unable to be injured.
It works against hope, making it feel like it won't come,
But all things come in time, despite the loss of some.
Do not worry, for the time will eventually pass,
It just doesn't go by smoothly, like wind in the grass.
Time is often blocked by impatience and fears,
But do not heed them, or you may fall to tears.
Even in the Void, time will still go by;
Nothing can stop it, no matter what we try.
So take solace in this truth, and abide your time,
And soon enough, even in impatience, the bell will chime.
In one's hand, the deck weighs the world,
Scatter them to see what may have unfurled.
Face down right now, but that's how it should be,
Now bring them back into a pile for me.
One by one, the cards will tell,
Of a story known all too well.
Now take the cards and shuffle them again,
And again if you wish, for their power won't wane.
Will one wither or will one be healed?
The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed...
Now be silent and ask your question of me,
The first card is the answer that we will see.
~the cards in this poem are specifically Tarot Cards, the 22 Major Arcana to be exact
Posted on 2008-11-04 at 03:29:23.
Edited on 2008-11-04 at 03:30:05 by Reralae
The shadow with blood on its hand,
Its skills set at a high demand,
So long as one can pay its price,
It will kill, with a heart of ice,
So long as it is the will of the dice.
Does the shadow have a heart, or not one at all?
It seemingly only knows to give Death's call.
Still, in the light, one comes to wonder,
That the shadow still holds something under,
Perhaps a heart that is torn asunder.
Hidden from both the darkness and the light,
The shadow's heart exists with its own plight.
Unknown, unseen, can one come to understand,
What is behind the icy terror of shadows grand,
And heal their heart with a compassionate hand?
Only time knows, and only time will tell,
If their heart can even become well.
If I am mad, then I can see,
All those little holes in reality
Call me insane, and you'd be right,
But read my lips: it will be alright.
A smile here and a smile there,
What better way to get through the air?
A riddle yes, or a riddle no?
The answer is neither, don't you know?
I'll bid you adieu to your own plight,
But right now it is Cheshire's night.
So listen or not and I'll tell you a tale,
Do not fear, it will end without fail.
It begins in the woods of a mad place,
What else would one expect from Wonderland's face?
Two frowns through the woods you can see,
The faces of both Tweedledum and Tweedledee.
Argue, oh my, such a ridiculous sight,
One mad plight during the mad night.
And with both sides dearly holding a frown,
Clearly only one way did the argument go down.
"A tale that lasts forever will go on and on, you see,"
So said Tweedledum to Tweedledee.
"But not if the teller chooses it to end,"
Tweedledee said to his twin and friend.
So I said, "Hold this discussion, if you please,
For sooner or later your faces will freeze."
And so to my dismay, I really was right,
For their faces froze as a result of their fight.
Stuck with a frown in a world that is mad,
The twins quickly came about and really were sad.
As best as I could, I directed the pair,
To go see both the Hatter and the Hare.
To the tea party we went, following the path with ease,
For us, getting around Wonderland is a breeze.
With the scent of tea in the air,
We quickly found the March Hare.
"Today is a sullen day, with only a cup of tea,"
So said the March Hare, not happy, really.
So asked, did I, "So then, what is today?
For you are here while the Hatter's away."
"Hatter? He's gone on a business trip,"
So said the March Hare, taking another sip,
"As for the day, well, let's just say,
It's not my Unbirthday today."
What, for shame, the Hare sounded sane!
It's not like the date would bring him pain.
Tweedledum then said, "Even though you may be down,
Do you know a cure for a face-frozen frown?"
In response, the Hare pointed to a kettle that is blue,
"One cup of tea, or maybe two, and you will be as good as new."
Having no reason to stay of which I was aware,
I simply vanished into the air.
Along the path I choose to stray,
For I never do lose my way,
But hearing a thump and a sigh,
I choose to take a look and - oh my.
Ah, the familiar sound of 'I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!'
When will that rabbit learn that it is simply its fate?
Of course, fate doesn't matter to one such as I,
For I am simply mad even though I don't try.
"Now where are you going in such a big hurry?
Are you going to stop for even carrot curry?"
That is my question which I gave to he,
But he hustled and bustled and forgot to answer me.
So rude and impolite that I choose to say,
"Tell me, is it the Queen you are visiting today?"
Between gasps and breaths he gave a reply,
"Yes, and I must hurry or I will die!"
Oh, such is the life of one White Bunny,
He hustles and bustles and can't even be funny.
One has to wonder is he even insane?
For he runs in both shine and rain!
Still, he's no fun, so I choose to go away,
I even gave the Queen a visit that day,
So bored was I that I gave in to sane,
Or maybe not, because I wasn't vain.
What does vanity have to do with being sane?
I know that question is in your brain.
Now now, not understanding isn't sad,
It's just simply proof that I am mad.
Anyway, back to the story I will go,
For I have more people to tell, don't you know?
Now, back to my visit with the Queen,
To be honest, she really isn't mean.
True, she always says, 'Off with their head!'
But it doesn't always mean they will be dead.
I mean, look at me, I can separate at the neck,
But why do other people have to be such a wreck?
So said I, "Oh, Queen I have come to see,
Your rather ill-tempered majesty."
Of course, my greeting was rather well met,
By her screech of what you'd expect.
So, I simply took my head off to her,
And her face was picture-perfect, that's for sure.
As I quickly did my welcome, I decided to go,
For the sky greyed and decided to snow.
Since for a Queen of hearts that are red,
I'm sure she'd kill white if it had a head.
So snow is white, and so angry she'd be,
But if I had to guess, I'd say she does like me.
Of course, that is a rumour to one such as you,
Whether it is real or not, you have no clue.
That is my tale, one day in the life of me,
So I shall go, but be sure to say hi to Tweedledee!
The psyche of mirrors so many,
And more smoke than a smoldering penny,
One persona at a time, a person will show,
But which are facade or true, no one will know.
Mirrors of a face upon the crystalline heart,
In truth, of it all one's personae form a part.
Personae are to face life when up or down,
Some heal and smile, while others give a needed frown.
They are a mask to protect the fragile soul inside,
As it bravely moves on through life's treacherous ride.
Yet of all the arcana from oh to ex-ex-one,
There is a place where all personae can have fun.
The world of fantasy reality doesn't allow,
The dreams of reality to which science won't bow,
The roles of the characters seen by the mind's eye,
To experience more things than life would ever try.
Yet in the end, when it is said and done,
Of all the personae, there is only one.
That is the one who the mirror should see,
"I am you, and you are me."
A chill shivering in the air,
Without time for even a prayer,
Upon end, the hairs do stand,
The orchestra of fear's band.
Even though gone, the feeling will stay,
For Death has come and gone this day.
The twin rivers flow and mourn,
And the wrong winds sound as scorn.
Even the mountains will face their plight,
As sorrow and anger within them fight.
Yet in the end, after everyone has their say,
There is one less life in one's world today.