Reflections On Dorian Gray, Part VII: Remembrances
by Michael Doyle

The plague burns through old London Town
While God casts his eyes aside with a frown
Obsessed with frightening visions of Sibyle Vaine
Dorian crumbles perched on the brink of going insane

Remembrances of her and the true love once felt
Dorian stands in the rains as his tears slowly melt
Knowing the guilt and the shame of what he's done
As lightning strikes and he knows, Satan has won

Tears such as these will not ever change a thing
They will not return the blue skies; nor ever bring
Any measure of safety as he hides from his own name
As the years creep by lived inside the dark veil of shame

Another ray of sun dares to shine into his futile days
Bent on daydreaming and of changing Dorian's morose ways
She speaks of lunchtime picnics when it's pouring down
And has hope of making smiles from his constant frowns

Humbly vowing to redouble his efforts at making offense
He slyly banters endlessly in flirtations and pretense
As heartless as he is outwardly appearing to be charming
His life has been given to that of pleasurably harming

Some things are more precious because these things don't last
Dorian protests to her and all of the ghosts of his past
There is a difference between happiness and feeling pleasure
In the end, there's an accounting in keeping what we treasure

Going beneath the surface holds a peril to those unaware
Terrifying as it is to a wicked heart to be found without care
Evil, it seems, can appear as if something quite beautiful
But the cares of a true soul kept are far more wonderful

(c) October 27, 2021  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved