The Hollow of the Restless

In the hollow of the restless,
Is where I spend my time.
Skipping, Screaming, Laughing, Weeping,
Collecting the things I find.
A feather here, a memory there,
A bottle filled with time.
A small round stone, a chicken bone,
A shriveled lemon rind,
And the faces of the ages,
Before they lost their minds.

Please listen friends until the end,
If you would be so kind,
To my tale of no avail,
Which I attempt in rhyme.

I began a normal being,
No different than yourself.
Until a great and grand revealing,
A gift of knowledge wealth.
I grasped the act of seeing,
All previously masked,
And then came the believing,
And all the questions asked.

Upon my shoulder grew the eyes,
Of which you now see multiplied,
They searched the mountains, hills, and skies,
Witness to the dumb and wise,
Truth, beauty, deceit, and lies,
All of the castles in the skies.
Twenty-one in number do they stand,
One of the primes in number land,
Another oddity of life,
Thrown amidst the love and strife.

After the eyes came the dreads,
Which grew like fire from my head.
Pinks, oranges, maroons, and reds,
An animal that’s never fed.
Each time I attempt to give them a whack,
In a matter of seconds it all grows back.
The reason why I cannot fathom–
Well…I guess I could imagine.
Reflection of human’s hate and passion.

How symbolize dichotomy?
By nature of their similarity.
And since hatred and passion,
Shall never run out,
From my head these worms,
Shall forever sprout,
Housing one particularly nasty lout,
Who knows what torture is all about,
And makes me itch and kick and shout.

Waking the spirit of the bones,
Which I have given a lovely home,
On a string around my neck,
Freeing them from hell and heck,
And a single dirty speck.
From four different men each bone came,
Experienced men in the life game.
The first one died in bloody war,
Witness to the loss and gore,
Fell as both his legs went sore,
No walking or talking forever more.
The second lived a nice long life,
Loving children, loving wife,
But never rich and always poor,
Was laughed at for the rags he wore.
He watched as sickness took his child,
Took his wife and spread like wild,
Until he was the last one left,
Alone, old, and bereft.
The third belonged to noble king,
Whose praise people would ever sing,
For wisdom, care, and understanding,
But renown isn’t everything.
Soon the king became corrupt,
And death upon him so abrupt,
A heart attack in the night,
Or so they say in fear and spite.
The fourth a young and gallant lad,
Could simply not escape the bad,
A fair young love once he had,
Now unrequited, and ever sad.
He fell into a deep depression,
Due to the unhealthy obsession,
Leading him to further regression,
Never to escape oppression.
And then his fragile mind caved in.
Try as he might he could not win,
Gave in to the darkest sin,
Chose to wear the demon’s skin.

Next to the bones I wear the teeth,
From many curious animals I meet,
Who (before introductions) were going to eat,
Of the fleshy tender meat,
That comprises my hands, body and feet.
But don’t you worry I stopped them friend,
They did not get me in the end.
After a discussion they would tend,
To understand my position.

Between the worlds of real and not,
Attempting to figure out my lot,
Before I die and start to rot,
Feeling ever trapped and caught,
A tooth they’d give me for good luck,
Before returning to the muck,
Thinking oh…the poor old shmuck.

The last creature I must detail,

I met inside a giant whale,

An octopus who measures time,

With tentacles that number nine,

Each to represent a year,

I am to spend in this land here,

Ever searching far and wide,

For reasons unknown, and answers why,

Always restless, never to sleep,

Roaming mountain tops and oceans deep,

My friends, my secrets will you keep?

One day, to this land, you may be borne

My friends consider yourselves forewarned!