The Tree By T. Pugsley

The Tree

Out of the clearest glass I’ve made

A shining sphere in which I keep

The light of life inside the shade,

The tears of love which sad eyes weep.

And far the most important thing

I keep inside the shining sphere,

The one most worth desiring,

The centre piece of all kept here,

I keep inside a most fair maid,

A beauteous form as e’er I’ve seen.

The pieces of this world I’ve laid

Are all for her, for she is queen.

And this by far what I enjoy

Of what I’ve done is it’s a ruse.

She does not know she’s in my toy,

So all the easier to confuse.

She thinks she’s free to fall or rise,

To glide through air on bird’s strong wings,

She does not see the wings she flies

Are held aloft on puppet strings.

The mirrored ball in which she be

Keeps from her eyes the world outside,

And only what I wish she see

Is from her shielded vantage spied,

And from her pierced and fractured gaze,

Without the knowledge that I stole,

She gives herself to me with praise,

And, blindly, gives up all control.

So sometimes when she’s feeling high

And has the greatest joys of life,

I like to twist the mirrored lie

And introduce a world of strife.

And spinning in the crystal ball,

She laughs aloud in ecstasy.

As I watch, the dominoes fall;

I know she will soon scream for me.

She comes to me, sobs in my arms,

The crashing of the world now ceases,

She won’t resist my strong, firm charms,

For I alone pick up the pieces.

And when she sinks against my chest,

Amid shards of the globe I broke,  

The heaving of her trembling breast,

The shattered sob of her throat’s choke

Are music to my ears, and though

She senses danger, which she’s in,

She does not have the power to go,

For secretly, she wants me to win.

I have her heart, I have her soul,

I have her mind to make my own,

And though she sees my heavy toll,

She cannot bear to be alone.

She cannot see them through the dark,

And though they’re calling out her name,

The strength and bindings of my mark

Make her tongue dumb and her legs lame.

And as her strength begins to fail,

And she falls, helpless, in my grasp

With hands that tremble, fingers pale,

Desperate, she finds my arm to clasp.

And all her will is bent to mine,

I penetrate her, like a knife,

Her power and my mind entwine,

‘Tis her belief that gives me life.

Struggling, she sinks in the abyss,

She fights to break free, but too late,

The last thoughts of lost consciousness

Give clarity to her dark fate.

“What have you done?” she fights to speak,

Eyes filled with fear and harsh reproach,

But lips are heavy, eyelids weak,

And blank thoughts on her mind encroach.

Then, with a strain, she reignites,

The fire in her eyes bright burns,

But just as quickly dim the lights;

The all consuming dark returns.

Now she lies limply in my arms.

I have her, body, mind and soul.

I make her life, I keep her charms,

For she will never  have control.

Never again,

For she is mine.  

Categories: Gallery

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