The Master

What a thought so futile! Cacophonic bats hover all around my house, around my room. They perhaps want a delightful conversation with me. Though I know none of them, not a single face. What I can remember is only you. You, the master. You taught me things unknown, took me to a Xanadu, asked me to stay there. But my poor soul didn't listen to you. I somehow heard a whisper of an unfamiliar bat telling me to plunge into a valley of mist and dead flowers on death-beds. I should rather have been deaf to a voice that causes melancholy. Having gazed at the sky where I used to see your tender light, found nothing but a giant horse pulling a cart filled with dead bats. I cried for you, I cried for the bats as they had all the right to live a life of their own though venomous. I tried to compose an elegy in memoriam of those dead creatures who died for no reason, but felt empty inside. In search of words, I now have been an infiltrator to the dictionary. My beloved master! Pardon me. Between you and me, between us, now there lies a dictionary full of unknown signs.