The Alchemist's Soliloquy (A poem of mine)

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I wrote this at the beginning of March. I submitted it to be considered for inclusion in Seattle University's annual literary publication, Fragments. Alas, it was not accepted; I think the those involved with the magazine who voted were biased against anything that did not resemble post-modernist free verse. Anyway, here it is:

The Alchemist's Soliloquy
by Josh __

'Tis I who turneth iron into gold
So many murky secrets do I hold
In this dark study ever do I toil
O'er tasks from which most mortals would recoil
Beneath the vaulted ceiling do I wield
My magic touch which I must keep concealed!
The furnace fires do yield grand transmutations
And thus I mimic nature's grand creations

But, hark! There's so much more to what I do
Such wondrous magic potions which I brew!
Dispelling ills thought wanting of a cure
These liquids shall to all good health ensure

But still! They're naught to that which I'll soon speak
A mad pursuit, yet one I dare to seek
And some might even say, "Tis most infernal!"
Th'elixir which shall giveth life eternal

Tonight, the stars align in prophecy
From all restrictions, I am thus set free
The time is now! The cauldron seethes with rage
My work's begun! It's time I set the stage
Upon where'll rest the crypt of Death most black
Who preys 'pon us with scythe across his back

Enough of him! For shortly will he be
No more! Now, I must to the recipe
I give the vessel what the recip' begs:
Crow beaks, rat tails, snake tongues, arachnid eggs,
Bat wings, wolf's blood, and sacramental wine
These are the seeds I sow for Death's decline

I stir, it breeds a foggy apparition
Cadav'rous soul! who weeps in curs'd perdition!
The smoke aligns to form a chanting skull
With melancholy notes, it sounds its lull

And now! The incantation, here, at last
This grimoire's pages, so, I must turn fast
To find the solemn words I must intone
Vitality sans end, I must enthrone!

The potent spells induce my eyes roll back
Intensity commands the kettle crack
But still, the sacred liquid does not flee
E'erlasting life it soon shall give to me
To me! The benefactor of mankind!
Fatality, the time has come, unwind
Decease, thy name shall nevermore be known
Thanks to my workings... Mine! Yes, mine alone!

I pour the liquid in the golden chalice
I soon shall be a great immortal palace
I place the fateful goblet 'twixt each lip
Undying I become with ev'ry sip

Yet, fathom – I cannot – tis much too great
In me, eternal life I first create
The final swig I take, the potion's done!
Perpetual time and I fade into one
I take a dagger, plunge it to my breast
And thus I put my potion to the test
From flesh unsheath'd, the knife leaves not a gash
My end result and purpose hath no clash

Now that I have resolv'd this riddle great
What have I left to wow me and await?
For nothing more could stand up to such splendor
Which ceaseless life's solved myst'ry doth engender
Which wonders still could move my eyes to tears?
No more could yet enthrall me so, mefears
My age and knowledge make me most content
To shrink from life into the grave's descent
Alas! I can't! So dreadful is this yoke
For which with pride I lately thought and spoke

But now I curse with ire that which I did
Oh, that such foul transgression I could rid!
With hell's eternal fire I have played
My own grotesque damnation I have laid
My final wish, from life, spared would be I
Sweet mercy, fate, I beg you, let me die!

Ooo - you made this chemist happy! Thanks for sharing. Plus, I have a penchant for alchemy. Have you read Carl Jung (yes, the psychologist)? I ask because he wrote much about 'the alchemy of the mind.' I think you might like! Nice work, NightsideEclipse.