The Poem Poem by Brandorian Jobst

Annabel Lee, We wear the Mask, Invictous,
they truly are all stunning.
The words, the stanzas,
the messages, everything to be sought.

The soldier, Løve, Generation X,
aren't they quite cunning?
But may I bare my heart, and ask
What do they have that I do not?

Yes different words
but aren't they much the same?
Does their intelligence surpass mine to the extreme of making I, nothing?
Does their skills create a unfathomable monument, casting a shadow in which I can't escape their fame?

Again I ask, what do they have that I don't possess?
Everything? Everything!
I take these facts with a gentle caress,
for I know the complexities of which I speak has all to do with me,
and nothing to do with them.

Yet again, I find this poem going to when,
it was first realized that the poems were more
more than what was simply derived from the words written

If a poem was written for me, by the poet
you may chose to inquire
would my heart still be destroyed,
and my mind set to fire?

Yes but no.
Oh and how I know
you hate my contradicting answer
but you must realize
that it's not the dance, but the dancer!