Thoughts of a Loner.

Who is Sapphirus? (By Sapphirus)

"Who is Sapphirus?"
A shadow dwelling in Montmartre's heavy mist,
A relic ancient of Rue de Rivioli's haunting past,
Broken by the poisoned treachery and lies,
Lies whispered by his dearest lover,
Lies echoing through the empty Louvre's halls,
Haunted by the spectre of his old woman's cancerous goodbye,
Her eyes of steely gray reflecting days of joy,
Windows of withered days,
Closed forever beneath Notré Dame's eyes.

"Who is Sapphirus?"
He is a man lost to himself,
Bankrupt in the corridors of Versailles' echoing,
Reclaimed by the cruel and merciless grip of debt,
A pauper among Parisian dreams,
Willing to hang himself with weight on his shoulders,
Willing to free the clenching hand of Grimm,
As one day he rose,
Rising from ruins like a phoenix long silenced,
Unseen and unwitnessed in the alleyways of Belleville,
Where absinthe was his beloved muse,
And addiction became his intoxicating tormentor's touch,
His soul long forgotten in dark corners of his soul.

"Who is Sapphirus?"
In the depths of Le Marais he finds no solace in sight,
Wandering through the bewitching maze of humanity,
The flaws as a living ghost amongst the living,
Rejecting love and affection of any sort,
That fickle phantom,
With every learned breath he reject,
"No"
"I deny"
"Oh I deny!"
A scholar of despair and loneliness unlike any other,
Crimson forever,
With Baudelaire's verses as his guiding light,
Observing from a distance as he became a silent witness,
Witness to the entire charade.

"Who is Sapphirus?"
A man kind even through ripples and darkness,
A kindness where he wishes and desires,
Desires to unveil the world's cruel truth to those unknown,
To show harsh reality lurking behind glorious Parisian facades,
He whispers,
"Sapphirus is in everyone~"
A shared shadow among mates long lost,
A reflection of pain and darkness he shared while dwelling,
Dwelling in the City of Light's embrace,
As he remained hidden forever,
A silent oracle in the alleys of Montparnasse.

"Who is Sapphirus?"
Versailles mirrors his shattered soul and heart,
Once filled with grandness of gold,
Now a vestige of hollow opulence,
His existence a mere stone,
A dense macabre in the cobblestone paths,
The laughter of past revellers now a lingering mocking echo,
As he drowns himself,
Drowns in the chalice of Bordeaux's bittersweet embrace.

~ Sapphirus