Gambolling in gloom

*drums on table*
Creates melody, hums the soul-binding rhyme*

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child must work for a living,
But the child that’s born on the Sabbath day,
Is fair and wise and good and gay.

*stands up, starts pacing in no particular direction – soliloquy begins*

The stares like swords piercing into my mind
The disappointment that comes with each breath
Slowly I walked in stride, head bowed, hands trying to outshine each with the solace they provide
My soul sucked out of my body with the dementor’s kiss
Buried six feet under
Warning reigned over me and told me “be quiet, your soul was not yours to yield”
Dream was relieved of it’s duty and nightmare strode in leisurely
Pain became me, I became pain – our lives so interwoven, we became inseperable
I, Wednesday was indeed an accident of fate.
A nameless catastrophe
A zombie borne from ingenuity
A mindless genius
An epidemic miracle
A successful failure
A forceful weakness
Meaning lost, life wasted dredging up old aches
The piper played the fool’s tune
I became oblivious to the crowd and moved my body to the tune that had no rhythm
The music was devoid of escape, meaning and no depth could be found
Still I danced,
I danced with my body, I danced with my mind, I danced with my soul and bade my spirit to join
Every bit of me rhymed – my fingers twitched, my hair jerked, my nose waltzed, my knees salsaed, my toes flipped
It was a tune fit for a king, and I the king of fools danced with my heart
Hence I hesitate and my subjects relinquish their loyalty

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