A Song Of Defeat

I hammered some words Out from the quarry of my brain They fell around in shards; Some like boulders, some like rocks and rubble I picked them up one by one. Block on block, I piled them up Thinking I could build a ‘pleasure dome’ But, When it was time for the workman To marvel over the beauty and wonder Of his dream creation His masonry tumbled down Like sand castles built By little hands on sea strands Or dunes of quicksand sliding down I have lost count of the times, This has happened before. Now that I stay resigned, Amid a heap of debris Is there any use feeling remorse? Like Nero fiddling on his harp When Rome was burning I sit on this pile of wreck Piping my thoughts away In the cusp between victory and defeat Exacting as much ecstasy as I can Before the truth looms large In all its stark nakedness!