Ode To The Universe

When I call for what I want, you bring it to me, running like a bolt of lightning through the sky. 

That’s a lot of speed for something so powerful, a lot of power for tasks so small. 

You’ll need specific directions. You’ll need clear words, clear thoughts. You carry out requests with the importance of a million soldiers headed into battle. You consume my desires like a Shakespearean battle cry. 

Don thy sword and let thy lustre flash

And spill the wretched crown upon the land.

Let me clarify--

I do not want any of that. I said it in the heart of battle, and I said what you wanted to hear. Or, what I thought you wanted to hear.

Sometimes when I speak, I mask my words in what I think I should say, and I always seem to muddle the meaning. I ask for things that I don’t want, and I call to you when I think I should, not in times of need. What you bring catches me red handed, and there’s no mask for that.

Disguise veracious thoughts in righteousness

In painted face the deed shall supersede.

Have I been doused in fear like a candle, layers upon layers of waxen stories?

I ask to be set upon the mantle where I’ll sit for years to come, admired but never lit. I ask to be whole but never used. I ask for a scent that grows barren, but it’s all out of flickering fear. For when the flame melts my hardened coat, I’ll find flaws, and I’ll feel what I don’t want to feel.

That’s what I ask of you. But what I mean to say is,

Menial days become commonplace, and I’m dry and I’m cold. Light me up.

Blushing flames shall lick my loosened lips 

And vanquish ‘pressed love with naked wit. 

And yet, you thrust generous gifts upon me, relentlessly. You seem to forgive endlessly like you’ve forgotten how I ignore the things you say. I crumble to pieces so often, but it will never be too many times for you.

O! The holy shrine of common law

Shall death make devilish fever in the end.

Use me while the wax is wet and malleable, for I’ll burn either way. I’ll try not to ask for too much.