Collage

Under a Red velvet sky,
In the back of the room,
They come to me in Torrents and floods.
Drinking from the nectarous Nepenthe
For far too long has clouded not
My judgment wholly.
Words from kindest friends, words
Of pain and suspicions and
True notions free from
Me
The fantastic fantasy
Of dreamt-up lies.
Under the light of a plaster
Moon you shine in
Technicolor brightness and sincerity
Of your true self.
Far more mortal I find
You than my fancies had me believe,
And prone still to the things
That separate ethereal
Quite magnitudes.
Free from burdens past I forge on this day to
The prosaic future of
Happiness.