Ark of the Lost Angels

Gatsby _{(Credit: Cherie327 on DeviantArt)}

In my younger and more impulsive days,
I set fire to the world around me,
And walked away from the flames I spawned
While the blaze’s victims screamed for aid which never came.

A summer on the coast near the city of dreams,
Raucous parties and doomed romances,
While I bore witness to the affairs of others
Whose influence outstripped my own. 

I was both within and without in this twisted tale:
The distant scribe of the sordid affair,
The dishonest dreamer pursuing a false reality,
The insecure man who had it all and looked down upon everyone.

I chronicled my own transgressions
As though they were committed by some other,
Casting myself both as tragically deluded hero
And callously conceited villain.

Impropriety cloaked in innocence,
Forgiving my own past sins in pursuit of an illusion
While ignoring that amnesty wasn’t mine to give
And refusing to recognize the autonomy of others. 

I laid the dominoes of disappointment
With others set to take the fall,
I fancied myself a beautiful fool, 
But I was just too careless to clean up my own mess.

Too enraptured by that green light
To notice I fell off the dock.
I arrogantly fancied myself an honest man,
Who lied about being fine even while drowning.

One cannot repeat the past,
Yet the false certainty of the contrary
Remains too strong to ignore.
I am but another boat beating against the current.