Morpheus Octavius

 

Morpheus Octavius was criminally insane

Having lost a big part of his, already, small brain

In a shoot-out in Texas with a drug-dealing gang,

Then arrested in Kansas, where he was due to be hanged.

But Octavius’s brain still functioned quite well

Well enough, that is for sure,

To avoid a certain journey down to Hell.

So he frothed, and he coughed, and also he feigned

Seizures and tremors, and pains in his brain.

For days this went on until he finally obtained,

From the State governors of Kansas, Missouri and Maine

Not just his pardon but also a letter,

Which made him feel happy, and very much better.

 

Now he was free Octavius flew straightaway

That very same day, to Lima, Peru

To make contact with “friends”, if you know what I mean,

Who could re-introduce him to the criminal scene.

As the plane landed in central Peru

He looked at the letter and read it right through.

 

“Dear Morpheus Octavius” the letter began

“Once you’ve been pardoned you’re not the same man

You’ve been nearer to death, and closer to God,

So think on about this, I know it seems odd,

But for your future repose what I certainly know

Is a life change, you need, to celebrateth

To avoid future dalliances with crime and with death”.

 

His face drained of colour, his plans all undone

Octavius switched flights straightaway to London

Which was where, when he arrived,

I first met this man.

I’m seeking solace, I want help,

Were the first words he spoke.

I was shocked; I was stunned, was this for real,

Morpheus Octavius speaking to me?

OK, OK I blurted out. What’s the deal

To help you out?

You must teach and I must learn,

That from criminality I should turn.

I need to mend my broken ways

My bad intent, not liking gays.

I need reform, I need it fast

I need it now, make this your task.

 

It was a deal I could not refuse

I’d got old Morph’, as his reforming muse.

Let us start, so why d’you hate?

Why d’you kill and maim and rape?

It’s simple man, the Morph’ he cried

My mum took smack, my daddy died.

No one loved me when I was young

My only friend, my trusty gun.

We’ve gone out for fifty years,

Seen death and hate and many tears,

But never love and never hope

And that is how I’ve learned to cope.

 

With that the Morph’ he came to me,

Tears welled up into his eyes,

He choked and blubbed

It felt to me, he had already died.

What to do, and what to feel?

For all of this is killing me.

With that I sat and held his hand.

You know, I said, you’re not so bad,

Not so bad at all. You were never loved;

By love you’ve never been enthralled.

 

Take my hand and understand

That love can come to you and all you do

That you too can feel the power,

And feel the might, of unconditionality.

For what ’er you’ve done, or thought,

Or said, matters not a jot to me

No more than does your criminality.

You’re just a man misunderstood,

A man if loved, who could be good.

So open up and let love in

It’s easy man, once you begin.

 

With that the Morphs’ eyes did fill

With tears of laughter; no more ill.

His face into a smile broke out

And that old Morph began to shout.

Now I feel I understand,

I don’t need to be underhand,

I just need to accept myself for who I am,

And that love can heal a shattered man.

With that he stood and moved away.

You know son, I want to say

Thank you, thank you, and thanks again

For helping sort out all my pain.

As that man walked away he turned to me, as if to say,

You too can join old Morph’ on his way.