It's the Period of Calm

Calmness... serenity... tranquility...
that's the picture that i paint -
that's what the whole world sees:
just calmness... serenity... tranquility...

But what lies inside me is a cauldroon of fire:
churning and turning and gurgling and boiling
what is hidden from the eyes of the world -
is the turmoil of magma and volcanic fire...

For how could i stay composed, and calm -
when my heart is beating like a frenzied drum;
how can i lie down and stay in repose, and calm -
when all that i feel is a passion that's a roaring fire!

How can i not wonder how this is all going to end -
how can i tell myself that it must be snipped and destroyed
like the worm-eaten rose bud that weeps in my garden...
how can i speak of this burning pain that tugs at the heart
and not feel it burn deeper, and sear longer than an ugly sore
that would not heal - but would only kill the heart that feels...