Extended Metaphor

There comes a point, where on of shedding tears,
The eyes run dry and sting with straining fears,
When all that you can do is bend and blink,
And drool a bit, and think to try to think.
And yet before you still and small she sits
And waits for you to try again – and it's
A terror to behold – her pallid face
A stranger to the human eye, the waste
Of opportunity – now standing strong
A pale faced lady – yet no sigh or yawn,
Will break upon her lips – though she had been
A cast away, and crumpled in a bin
Of trash before I found her, took her hand,
And smoothed her wrinkles out till she was grand
And awesome in her emptiness. I guess
That I supposed she would, at my behest,
Work such a wonder – bring forth such a thing –
For I had saved her – I would make her sing.

And thus it was – three weeks did I implore,
And curse and tear the planks out of the floor,
And finally weep – abandoned as I was,
Refused of food and water – and because
No plight of mine could move that stricken face
Emotionless and white – though in my pace
Continued I would perish from the earth.
Because I'd no idea she was worth,
I left the room – the woods I would explore,
And seek to death some dogged metaphor.

The woods were empty – clear at least, as I
Could not make out the stars above the sky
Or anything which twenty feet out lay,
Or whether it was night, or it was day –
For all around a great and thickened fog
Held fast and turned my intellect a bog
A nightmare, so it was to seek out here
The creature who might solve my plight and fear.
Twelve times did I see hankered on some path
A traveler like me, who, full of wrath
Could not find what he sought – but only found
A vague lit fog – a stale and ugly ground.
I could not stay and help them spend the time.
My hunger and my deadlines came to mind.

"Please sing for me," I recalled having said,
"Please, feel for me, I need some food, a bed,
A way to pay the bills!" But nothing for –
She looked no different than she had before.

A noise then stirred my mind. I stopped and saw
A shape escape into the gloom, a paw,
Or something like it – churning into mist
But it was something – so I would persist
And dive and drive in after the elu-
-sive beast I would and could not bear to loose.

Eight times I almost lost him – when those eight
Times passed where I had jumped too late
To have him caught – and seen him gallop off
And leave me grouping in some muddy cough,
Or slammed into a tree I had not seen
Before I'd leapt – I thought that I had dreamed,
Until I saw the prints where he had crept,
Until I smelled the place where he had slept.
"This thing is not imagined," I would say,
"I'll seek him out until his dying day."
And thankfully I'd not to wait that long.
I soon assumed the trail again – the song
I thought I knew he whimpered in his sleep,
The gallop of his four and muddied feet –
I'd followed all the clues I thought I saw,
Until at last, a thick and perilous wall
Of rock cut off all possible escape.
My fingers itched – my heart began to quake –
For there before me stood the long sought foe
My worthy gem – my secret I would know,
And knew already – eyes of fire and pearl –
The bloodhound who would help me sing the girl.
"Do come with me," I said, "My armor's strong,
I know you well, and feel that we belong,"
And in the sentence thus I stumbled close,
My knowledge pumping through me like a dose
Or two fo alcoholic drink – I raised a hand
To pat his head, as if he knew the plan.

And quicker than I have the heart to say,
This thing I had sought after turned my day
Of knowledge into gross and sudden night,
And like a flash of thunder and it's light
The creature turned on me, and tore my arms
And legs to loose my armor – yet no harm
Did he do unto me – but only said
When he had pinned me down and had my head,
"You don't know anything." And like a sound
Is there and gone, he vanished in the ground.

No wide pretentious smile could smear my lips.
Not even simple knowing and its bliss
Could comfort me on my returning home.
It was a strange and bitter kind of gloam
That circled in my heart and in my brain.
It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't pain.

So, soon enough I found myself once more
Just sitting there upon an empty shore.
I looked at her – she looked, but not at me.
I sighed. I laughed. I offered her some tea
Just for the madness of it – nothing else.
For nothing's all the further that she tells.
I gave a final sigh, and spoke it slow,
"Perhaps that was a foolish way to go.
Just when I thought I had it straight and tall,
It turned on me. I didn't know at all."

And then somehow it was there. In my wrong
The pale faced creature turned into a song.