Ack! Begone you wretch!
You are temptation,
And I will have none
Of your poisoned drink!
Oh, wait! No! Not you!
Not you, lovely one!
You are quite alright!
You are beautiful!
So do not worry.
Conjured attraction
From primal instincts!
A plague on mankind,
The damned sense of sight!
Please remove my eyes!
Cut them from my head,
Then set them aflame!
Make them disappear,
So this corruption,
This wretched evil,
Can be blown away,
Ashes in the wind.
The poison is here.
It is everywhere,
Where beauty might be,
For it corrupts us.
No. it cannot be.
I must be corrupt;
I must be evil
To say such a thing!
Sir Wilde has taught me,
Or rather warned me,
That beauty to see,
A mirror to be,
Of evil, not she,
But rather of me.
Of evil within,
Of my heart so dim.
But I see a light,
Across the dark night.
My eyes remain now.
I suppose 'tis good,
Else I would see not
The stars in the sky,
The good in us all.
Beauty means beauty,
And only beauty.
The evil I see,
Is simply in me.
I am the wretched,
But I can be cured.
Through beauty, I can.
Whether it be art,
Or simply just you.
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It seems that I have been neglecting this blog for nearly a month now. It is due to my lack of completed writings. I focused so dearly on "Who is the true monster?" that I did not write any other short stories and poems. I began a few following, but I have yet to complete a single one. Two have been more or less abandoned, as are most poems that are left undone by me. One has not been forsaken like the rest, but I wonder to myself whether or not I am truly done. Thus, I am stuck to this particular poem. The one posted, titled "Attraction", was written some time ago, easily over a month ago. I believe it was early February or late January, as seen by the dates in the notebook, although this particular entry is not dated.
Recently I have been busy at work with my more academic affairs, such as my integrative paper that is the basis of my program, but it seems to be minor in comparison to Camp NaNoWriMo, which is currently still causing "The Beginning of the End" to get closer and closer to a conclusion, although I do not see it in the near future. It is nearly five hundred pages long, and integrative is only a mere forty pages. Both are based upon literature and the understanding of it, despite one being the application of the knowledge and another the analysis of Oscar Wilde's novel "The Picture of Dorian Gray". It should be noted that ideas from that very novel are quite prominent in this poem, but I have come to understand that my initial reading of the novel was quite misguided and foolish. The horrors that I viewed within it are no longer visible. Now I deal with the problems with an excessive value of beauty, which leads to the tendency to judge people based upon appearances (and that is horribly fallacious if I may add). Dorian Gray is, in essence, a nuclear bomb disguised as a teddy bear. I will not go much further into discussion at the time being, as I am still editing the paper, although I reckon that the meaning I draw from the interpretation will not change.
Thus, it is here that I will end this late post. I apologize for not having been posting, even if it was poems such as this one, written some time ago. I believe I have read somewhere once that those called 'bloggers' should not apologize for not posting often. I, however, recognize that a month is quite some time to wait if you wish to read more of my works. Despite my overwhelming doubt of the existence of such a person, I will not reject the idea that one may exist. If you happen to be this person, or rather, any person who reads my work, I thank you for your support. Surely a writer would seem dramatically more insane without readers. Take care, and until next time,
-Zero
