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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1973834-The-Portrayal-of-A-Metaphysical-World
Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #1973834
Everyone has a world inside to explore, explore before it's too late...
The Portrayal of A Metaphysical World


I: The Holiday for Resurrected Souls

Oh let us yell at life to fix,
Because it always fixes for us,
Let us bring back the dead,
To comfort our souls for our benefit,
Although they dance in the ballroom,
They do not rest in peace…

II: The Classical Academy of Unorthodox Arts

I am bored to death,
I am born a bored man,
Singing echoed songs by the fireplace,
To those who claim ostriches can fly above our pretty little heads,
I must confess what poor Aristotle said to me,
About the revenue of rhetorical logic to the mind,
Oh how I miss the days of Greek wine,
The poems about the Goddess of Tablet Computers,
All gone when the wispy wise men destroyed chaotic corporations,
Oh I am an anarchist in disguise,
Yet I am happy in many other ways,
I sell newspapers for the British press,
A demanding enterprise it was,
But I sought to rule the fate of man,
To provide the light and food for them,
I must dance with the faeries of Babylon,
Whom sparkle dust from the Glowing Moon,
When all these events occur,
The boredom disappears inherently,
And when it does,
All of life will dance around the Sun,
When pessimism is obliterated from the Earth,
The people grow optimistic…

III: The Enigmatic Messiah of Music

When the days were delayed,
Our hearts shattered,
Why were the days delayed?,
Only one person knew,
We saw a meek person,
Playing guitar slowly,
A better guitarist than Jimmy Page or Alex Lifeson?
Was this possible?
The world must have music,
Depression would be far common without it,
Only the oceans disagreed,
When the Pacific and Atlantic divorced,
The Pacific gained custody of the children,
Leaving poor Atlantic,
Crying in despair…

IV: The History Behind an Abandoned Reality That Never Was

Too much boredom in the world,
Where creativity is medicine for the melancholic and expressive,
When children read the back of their shoes,
They cannot run to school,
The police will not approve of such curiosity,
From the high mountains,
Your hands cannot hide your eyes,
You cannot think because you lack a mellow soul,
You stomp towards the CIA,
Screaming, "Where is my grandfather's shirt? Why did you lose his heart?"
Which turned purple a long time ago,
The selective nature of arctic lakes display a rare beauty,
Which was formerly common,
That was changed when London was crowned "City of the World"...

V: The Lost Art of Self-Discipline and Importance of Seeking Progressive Knowledge

Knowledge
Expand beyond the mind,
We are not computers,
Explore your professor's backyard,
Most likely a Medieval-esque Garden,
Why can't everyone live together in Oxford?
Brains are libraries,
Not the Saharan Desert,
Your older brother cannot control your life,
Yet when he wants to,
He always fails when the high kingdom raises a valiant army...

VI: The Secret Behind True Love Nobody Wants You to Know

When the heart follows your ears,
It's the prettiest sound you'll ever hear,
You hear it once in a lifetime,
Not music,
Not laughter,
Love...
© Copyright 2014 Henry Quinn (xavier04 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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