In the theater of my heart, images repeat,
Tales of joy and love, both sweet and bittersweet,
Imagined scenes of destruction and sunshine intertwine,
I’ve seen that movie playing in my mind.
A verdant park, a laughing brook, a scent of summer pine,
Happiness is pure in peace, divine,
Yet every Eden has its snake for every joy we undermine,
A prick of pain behind the smiles, a bitter taste in wine.
Lost in our misery, we search for our stars,
Glimmers in the darkness shone above,
With teary eyes, we trudge through life,
Solace is hard to find in our darkest minds
Yet still, we seek hope, a beacon for the blind.
A book of love stories sits on a dusty shelf,
Narratives of heartbreak, of sacrifices, of oneself.
In their bittersweet symphony, our hearts become entranced,
These tales of love and bitterest lament.
Then a twist, a shock, recoil,
A sadistic grin, the mask, the serpent, the soil.
The bitter end of poisoned fruit drips upon fertile soil
The lover’s dreams dissolve despair.
The tragic end of no hero under crown.
Unseen intelligence calls from countless halls,
Yet, in heartbreak and sorrow, a twisted truth unfolds,
Even in the darkest tales, beauty, our mind’s eye beholds.
For life is not a simple song of joyful notes and chorus,
But symphonies of light and dark, both harsh and dote.
Heroes rise, villains fall, in chorus and hope,
A voice within against original sin.
