Requiem of Dreams

Title art by Zoi Pappa. Click image to visit his studio

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Clint Mansell “Hope Overture”

There’s a word for that you know
There’s a word for everything
Every feeling, every numbness
Every joy and every sorrow
Every last today and yesterday that looks and feels entirely the same way inclining as tomorrow may
Every beggar blind, inclined to borrow

Every hollow, every tree
Every fallen Autumn leaf
Every vicious gust of wind
Every gentle morning breeze
Every venture gained and pain that we concede
Every twist within our guts and tucked away internal bleed

There’s a word for every feeling
There’s a verse for all we see
Every time we feel alone, there’s an eye upon our souls
Every curse we bless annulled
Every choke hold we release lessens tightness in our chests and better dresses to accept blessed relief

Every disbelief is challenged, every doubt is proven wrong
Every weakness is a strength and every last breath everlong
Every word of praise a daisy chain, a necklace of mystique
Should assessment be undressed of harsh critique
Even then, the future need not be so desperately bleak
Should the voice inside break silence then to speak

There’s a word for every passion that we fashion from enraptured chic
A noun for every frown
And a verb in handsome gown for every joy and sorrow lost and found in manner most profound
A word for every sound
Entire bestseller for each silence
A peaceful end to violence
And defiance from receding
Provided we tear down the walls, burst forth straight through the ceiling
Then there’s a word for every single feeling

There’s a heart and there’s a soul to every glow that we discern
Once we learn to take each feeling felt in turn
Words are candelabras burning whispers through the shadows
Words give deeper meaning to the shallows of our minds

Words are not that hard to find
Look delightful in a chorus line
This symphony an infantry of falsetto and baritone
Whether guttural groan or the trill of the shrill
Words run against the mill
Whenever bled from red not dead, drip fed through quill

Each of us possess this tool
Every leaf drops to its knees in Fall
Every Winter passes
Every Spring brings morning dew
And the feel good hit this summer could be any one of you
Colors shining through with true belief not gritted teeth
For every word’s a beacon to be seen to be believed

There’s a word for this you know
There’s a word for everything
Every songbird in sweet song
Every voyage to everlong
Every requiem a dream
Every blessing setting scene
Through spoken verse
We’re never ever any less than seen

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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  1. ‘A noun for every frown
    And a verb in handsome gown’

    A tremendously beautiful orchestra of verse that’s left me with a lump in my throat ….
    Of joy of course!

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