Feeling is fleeting emotion a breath
Sudden quick ephemeral like death
But I hold the power to shackle you in phrases
Raw emotion imprisoned between phases
Completely surrounded, cocooned by tropes
Your power encased in swift pen strokes
From heart to mind I entomb in paper
Feelings confound no more, so clever
But the captured feelings, they seek their vengeance
Even when bound, they seek my penance
I thought them powerless, in that I err
In truth, the page preserves their power
Each time I read my written verse
My vaunted power becomes my curse
For the pain I once imprisoned there
Renders me beyond repair
Keats
27 October 2010
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