The Chapter of Interlude

Chapters of life happen naturally, some realized, some not.
The chapter I knew, the chapter I called “epiphany”, has sung its swansong.

Prior to its spotlight, the world around me mustered meaningless monochrome,
my soul knew music, but what it felt, what’s ordinarily mystic, only meant monotone.
When the moon and its opposition oppositely set, the palpable contrast eluded me.
My senses lacked all that made admirable emotion enough to include me.

I was empty.
On occasion, however, the phases of sun and moon unite.
An ensuing eclipse brings an eminent light saving those
who require a comforting refuge of optimistic sight.

I was the moon.
The sun’s shimmer carried color curing my deficits.
My eyes saw a land that had long been around me,
but only now did its vastness seize my soul.

Love found me.
Complexion of nature’s musical composure gave my lost life a purposeful peace;
the omnipotence of a trusting true love opened confined ears and eyes.
Love unveiled the palette of life unbeknownst to me… I was happy.

Rapture radiated as the blinding eclipse was glorified for all to see.
Yet, it was not for eternity; the moon forever mourns the
orange that comes with sunset; reality warned of itself.
Only at parting were the aims of the sun made known:

I am the sun. I know I had to set.
Falling into a slumber that only could be defined as a dream beyond reality,
love fostered perpendicular allies, each leading to their own eternity.
An alley of endless eclipse: ideal, yet dreamt of unrealistically.
An alley of varied scripts: practical, yet seen nervously.
Both will fail in forcing my spirit’s core to forget.

The former remits rays of joy: seeming perfection;
“seeming” is what it was, “seeming” is what it is.
Thoughts of splendor and sorrow exist together.
The latter brings beams from the unknown:
unknown sentiment, unknown potential.
Fortune and failure work as one.

No matter the path elected for existence,
walls grow on both sides, following to enclose.
Following to trap and to ensure that no escape from this
cycle can be had; reality watches as it happens over and again.
The cycle of incongruent emotion coming to bless, leaving to curse;
a feud between frowns and smiles controlling the life thought to be yours.

No matter which alley was walked, forgetting what had been felt,
forgetting the earnest love of eclipse would be unimaginable.
The time love took was only a mere morsel, yet what it held,
what it caused my spirit’s core to endure won’t be lost.
Even when walls rise against me, the memories of seeming
perfection will still be within the midst of my mind.

As time continues to toil,
as moments of the present come to go,
as I set and rise through the endeavors of life,
the image of eclipse that was once music in my mind
will wither and weaken; but, what feelings from eclipse
that forever hold my heart will push my soul to desire what it must find.

Setting at separate ends, walking the latter alley, they were both inevitable.
The moon’s ambition was the antipode of mine, oh well, on with mine.
I yearn for what lies ahead in this alley: the future of a successful self.
Opposition of walls may rise against me, but the path is straight.
The present comes to go, but why not be there when it comes?
Why not be there to bid farewell when it goes?

Why not turn the walls that intend to bring a solitude of stillness
into a window of light that brings a multitude of liveliness?
If choosing the path of eternal eclipse was meant to be,
then it would have been. Reality controls fate.
I followed reality and its path to develop the
purpose that defined my own self-security.

But does following reality’s governing ways
ensure the fulfillment of my natural rights? My life? My liberty?
Does a saunter on this path of supposed freedom jeopardize an ideal outcome?
Does reality hold the sovereignty of something that was once my life?
Did I let their leadership turn my lullaby into a cacophonous cry?
Reality is a tyrant.

I know rising in this alley was proper for my purpose,
hopefully, the moon, my still dear, understands me just this once.
Our eclipse felt like that of a dream: peace, comfort, resolve, rest;
yet, time turned today’s resolution into tomorrow’s tangles.
The moon still reflects me, they still receive my light,
I know in eclipse though, they were the brightest.

I jeopardized the moon’s happiness.
Their reliance on my light was their ruin.
I knew that day would come, I knew eclipse would end.
The onset of overwhelming guilt came without warning, however.
I chose to follow the latter alley, the moon wanted me to follow the former with them.
This feeling of responsibility for the misfortune of the moon comes like a vast overcast.

I feel culpable.
It’s hard to give only the world to one that deserves infinity.
As I learn to take flight with the light of my future life,
hopefully, the moon understands how I tried.
Hopefully, they understand I too was happy,
I just now need to find my own affinity.

“You can’t wake up if you don’t fall asleep.”
Being awakened from my slumber, choosing my alley,
I’m ready to pursue what prospect lies in distant desire.
Even with all the fondness and care my soul still holds for my other,
they haven’t heard my thoughts, they haven’t heard the quarrels of my mind.
What is it that the moon thinks in their alley perpendicular to mine?

The sun left me. It felt so sudden, so sharp, severing my trust.
Their soul’s parting words of sympathy didn’t match their being’s agency.
Prospective intentions lacked parallelism with past yearnings for the ideal.
My memories lie contaminated with doubt.

Why give someone a dollar when they can’t give a nickel?
Why give someone the world when they can’t give a country?
Why go to the sun for someone when they can’t even reach the moon?
Oh well, I guess that’s love. Undying love.

Within eclipse, the future that’s now the present was often alluded to,
but why couldn’t we continue to sound our melody, why did reality have to resume?
Love was then omnipresent, can it still be fostered to shine its light,
or will I have to press forward with the hope of peaceful solitude?

Parallel to finding me, love later repelled me.
Just as the sun rose, it also set.
Living a life lonesome is necessary in order to know what perfection is.
I know it’ll be worth it… Someday.

As I’ve continued through my phases,
it feels strange to find color without another.
Initially, for me, color was something that couldn’t be had alone.
As I persist, however, will the source of my color shift, or was it unique to only one?

The chapter of  “epiphany” that came naturally, has likewise taken its leave.
Oh well, time to meet my next chapter: “The Chapter of Interlude”.