I called out! to the painful, the shadowy in you…

i fear the allure of the way

i once was, a master of carving the sounds of words,

the words themselves, into captivating performances, sliced

deeply from the flesh of self-analysis, fascinating and dark.

I called out! to the painful, the shadowy in you -

and you, transfixed by the spectacle of my despair,

which is what I fear: how easy it was to cut myself into concepts

into what we figure for wisdom: merely weeping wept with sweet, sweet sounds.

I fear the allure of the lyricism of sadness,

because it stirs us, draws us in, and sets upon us, enrobes us

in a romance of tears spoken in the tongue of introspection.

nothing learned here finds root or truth in the shroud of darkness:

Wisdom grows in the light.