After realising that version one of, the yet untitled villanelle, was every ones preferred choice, I decided to spend a few hours late last night trying to write the next two verses. And in doing so I came to a startling conclusion, Sleep deprivation and alcohol make a great creative couple. It was one of those wonderful moments where words simply appeared out of no where and things seemed to just fit into place. Now I'm no proponent of such nonsense as destiny and fate and other such bullshit, but for a couple of drunken hours early this morning I got as close as any one who doubts all things can, to some kind of clarity. Now the big question is, do the new verses stand up to the scrutiny of a sober mind after sleeping off the delirium of writing without really thinking. I guess the only way to know is to ask. So let me know if the new verses are any good or just the mad ramblings of a man who had too much to drink and not enough sleep.
Here are the first four verses in full.
Who we are and what we feel
through each repeating day,
has no truth and is not real,
has no reward or grand reveal
to help us on our way.
Who we are and what we feel
and its defunct, postiche appeal
which tames austere decay,
Has no truth and is not real,
Portends to nothing so ideal
to warrant us to pray.
Who we are and what we feel.
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