A song of the heart without music,

A lyrical mesh of sound and rhythms and images

Bound to a burning flame

Pounding ‘gainst my brain,

Pulsing, pressing,

Scoring the privacy of

Mind entanglements,

My predicaments.

Clarity of thought in a haiku,

Hidden in a metaphor,

Concealed in a blanket of painted pictures

Sans paint, sans sound, sans utterance,

But for the word, which is total,

A fait accompli of the soul.

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