Lost In The Mist: The Mind of a Poetess
Her tears fall unheeded,
onto the last memory, before he left.
He stood so proud, his services needed.
Her in white, him in service dress.
Bride a day, widow a lifetime.
His life taken, he gave it bravely,
his last thought
the sweet touch of his lady.
She sat, perched on her window sill.
Clutching his purple heart.
As tears slowly dropped,
her body went still.
She prayed they would cease to be apart.
And as her heart stopped,
they held each other sweetly.
Widowed only a lifetime, embracing each other forever.
Chapter Three: The History In the Stars
Fires of Hope
The Desert Night
The Silence of Immortality
Summer Storm
Exquisite Innocence
Rainbow True
Autumn Change
Fears of the Mist
Color of our Heart
Fires of Hope
With delicate absurdity we sculpt our path,
each line and crevice a triumph
of Mastery.
Over cascading ripples of a moons translucent
sighs.
In the midnight descent to quake some
fear and tumultuous loneliness,
when Monsters from the deepest ebony
of the mind emerge.
There lingers the smallest glimmer
of
Hope.
Dancing shadows, wind flickered flames.
Beckoning from sandy
parapets.
On a beach of scoured glass
and weathered waves.
Its with a indefinite sense of foreboding
we gaze upon the storm encroaching.
And as closes the final chapter,
extinguished are the lights
of
Hope.
The sandcastle is washed away.
The Desert Night
Flesh crawls,
As the moon watches,
and the wolf howls.
To greet the birth of the desert night.
As the wind catches
the dreams of the night
increase, and the passion matches
the tempo as the night's pulse continues to beat.
And watching with awe the stardust's flight
as the spirits search to meet
and with infinite praise, and unending might,
the creatures come alive.
Footprints show, but with no matching feet,
save those that struggle to survive.
in a world where the fight is the tempo to night's beat
and passion is the fading of the sun.
Flesh warms,
wind dies down, the moon fades its face,
the wolf howl's its final lullaby
to the end of the desert night.
The Silence of Immortality
The silence of immortality
is but the shrill echo bound in the passage
of a fading eternity.
Steel to Dust. Wood to Stone.
In death all coalesce as one.
Tracks laid through
a forest of beauty and youth
are but a minute earthworm in the essence of forever.
Green to Gold. Young to old.
In life all is lost to behold.
A setting sun mists and flows
in a reminiscence of its noon brilliance.
A ray to waste with each second gone
as the essence of eternity fades alone,
like the trilled whistle of a long evanescent train.
Green and Old. Steel and Stone.
In all, all is lost as one.
Summer Storm
The sky kisses with lips of slanting rain
and moans of violent thunder.
Lashing trees that bend and snap,
through fury and torment.
Castles of blackened air and slashing scintillation,
bedeck the roiling sky.
Lovers dance and sigh
to the stars and sun obscured.
Where once the gentle tap did sound,
now an ocean roars.
Trains pound through mighty pines,
and animals burrow deep.
Green turns glossy
and the air sweetens its tint.
The heavens caress with limbs of living moisture
and I dance through lifes' summer storms.
Exquisite Innocence
Exquisite Innocence
An infantile dream
cascades through
a sunset bursting from
waves of subconscious.
Inner Delight.
Whispered secrets.
Fantasies of youth.
Embrace with bliss.
An elegant Innocence.
Fantasies unfulfilled to age.
Secrets lost.
Delighted bitterness.
Return to bairn,
bewitch a dissilient
rainbow that twirls
in angelic madness.
Revel once more
in the cloying passions
of the gentle caress
that cavorts forever
In exquisite Innocence.
Rainbow True
Rainbow glowing true.
Blue silk, cool to the touch.
Red flame, burning bright.
Viridian Emeralds, glinting sharp.
Golden nuggets, shining true.
Silver glistens, liquid hot.
Magenta fades to pearly pink.
A dust of magic.
A leap of faith.
Wings flutter,
Time ends,
As a butterfly takes to wind.
Autumn Change
The wind increases it's speed,
The green becomes less bold,
As the bronze is freed.
With hues, from the red to gold,
Orange to brown.
As leaves die,
And colors stain the ground,
The wind whispers it's lullaby,
As the Autumn change begins.
Fears of the Mist
Passion in adversity,
Beauty is pain,
Love conquers death.
This is how it should be.
But with spastic ignorance,
We deem the Gods a fake.
Enter into the darkness,
Give life to the ebony.
And praise the object of mortal affections,
Until forced to agree.
Worship the great Aphrodite,
whose passion's lust is bad.
Tribute the drunken Maeynad,
that fills us with her insanities.
The creatures of our most beatific dreams,
Cause our enemies to quake with fear.
and Flaming Hades laps up their screams.
And like the blind seer,
A know-all, a Faux.
To the God's of the myths,
and to the fears of the mists.
The past still to come,
and the future behind
Color of our Heart
Beauty is just another name for the color of our heart.
Love is the way we all let our feelings free.
The purpose for these feelings apart.
Is to let us just be we.
We are the way all take flight.
And let our spirits soar.
With the winds of time keeping us right.
And the times wind deplore.
Time is how we live and die.
Death and life to be.
Crawling, and to fly.
We are all that life, death, time, and now can see.
Seeing our past.
Living our present.
Being our future so fast.
r />
We are times indent
Chapter Four: The Mask Behind the Face
Deaths Heartstrings
Dance Among the Dead
Shadowed Memoirs
Midnight Bells
Smartest of the Fools
Midnight King
Clairvoyant Disease
Hates Demise
Deaths Heartstrings
Hollowed hearts with whispered screams.
Winter in its finest.
Glacial blades cascade from slate and limb.
To spike the pulses beat.
Bring the rain and windshorn crowning
for I enjoy failing, drowning.
Beneath auburn waves
of deadened lives.
Humbled in the shadows of yesterdays
fears.
Mindless incubation of a seasons desires.
Rampant petulance in seasoned fires.
Lost in the fevered brevity of death's
heartstring.
Through the window of passage and time
She watches.
As her world fades to the muddied charcoals
of muted eyes and sickened ears.
Death is her long lost lover,
lost to see.
How eagerly she awaits
Hands clasped tight, moth eaten.
Her hearts final dream.
Her lips run red in cracks and crevices
of parched and papered skin.
Soul prepared to meet with passion
the kiss of Death's loving greed.
Dance Among The Dead
Opaque eyes froth crimson beneath masks
of graying rainbows and shuttered suns.
She dips and twirls on velvet strings
untouched by an omnipresent audience
of scarlet bedecked crows.
Suitors of brocade and shadows
circle in the mating dance of patriarchal wealth.
To end in the captivity of womanly souls.
Her puppet master of innocence banished
to the nursery of tomorrow's puppet princess.
Replaced by the blackest gleam among ebony stars.
Bedecked in funeral garb of satin pearls
and silken diamonds. Adorned by a crown
of ivory rubies and sapphire tears.
She is but one on the morticians dance card.
A single waltz among the royal dance of the dead.
Shadowed Memoirs
Hades' whisper blossoms sweet terror to dance
beneath misty curls, across the bare
silk of purpled flesh. bitter in intensity.
Silence echoes from the bones who rule the graveyard's
murky depths. Guarded by gargoyles fierce ebony eyes
gleaming in midnight's rays. Marble and blood.
Fervent pleas become frantic prayers.
Phantom wails pulse, a ship tossed
In the most demented of storms.
Iced fingers grip tight to petals in mutilated decompose.
Mud steeps the mind. Sawdust the lungs.
Drips meat with a scattered beep.
A life of no beat, with but a sorrowed sigh,
Falls to shadowed memoirs.
Midnight Bells
The whisper of a lovers kiss
Adorns the clouds a delicate rose
Into the rising moon.
Bristling softly in midst of diamonds of the sun,
Succulent caresses on velvet skin,,
The blossoms dance in the
Sweetest blush of madness.
Gentled passion among the clover
The mighty pines roar
A challenge to the heavens
And the gilded oaks stand guard.
Forbidden desires, clash of class
And titles rights.
The knave gives blossom
To the brides pearled
Wan lights.
Surrendering to the effortless daze.
The bride falls among the flowers,
Deed done, her love proven
The knave dons his mask.
Vanishes.
A midnight chiming of ghostly bells
Awakes the lovesick maid.
With sleep bruised eyes she finds
A velvet purple blossom
Nested in the warm indention
Where the knave had watched and laid.
Her smile lit the night
The petal graced her lips
Her heart blossomed sweetly.
Smartest of the Fools
Memories of ice, clear and blue
pervade the senses.
Once what warmth did glow bright,
quails from sun and light.
Sanctuary from passion and sweetness,
can be found empty and overt intense.
When what you seek lair’s its nest,
in unmitigated faith and trust.
Repose your intrinsic beat,
so that may you one day
tranquilize your fears of depth.
Betroth yourself to a continuance,
of seclusion in an entity of dryads
or fissure now the parapets,
and cataclysm the fortitude’s.
Memories of ice clear and blue,
touch with ardor upon the sweetest crevices,
languishing to caress, ever gentle, succulent.
But only in the most cryptic of your dreams.
Fear falls even the Smartest of the Fools.
The Midnight King
A delirious eddy of satin and glittering jewels,
that twirls in secrecy and the deep
mysteries of forbidden
gyrations and pleasure.
Her eyes are but a coruscation
within dashing colors and dancing flame.
His lips are tilted, breath sweet ambrosia
to her innocence delight.
Cryptic kisses covertly given,
among the swirling, sinuous coryphées.
Friends are transient,
lovers unknown, affiliations mute.
When the mind releases its passion
to the charade of twilight's masked sphinx.
Her stomach quavers, fingers deftly agitated,
butterflying in ripples across his dance dampened skin.
Feathered faces, gloved fingers, pulsating laughter
to match palpitating beats.
Never-ending, whirling, maddening, dark.
An insane pool of rippling silk and fiery gems.
Her innocence taken by the Midnight King,
who vigorously gambols his lascivious disappearance through the
mystique of night's masquerade ball.
Clairvoyant Disease
The passionate torture of a daedalian entity creates my clairvoyant disease.
The intuitive pressure thrashes through my conscious soul.
Hands grasped in a muttered attempt at sanity.
Festering malady of a mental persuasion,
drowns the thoughts of personal gratification.
Eyes tight clenched against the fury of profanity.
Finally even my sweet inner demons relinquish my soul.
To end the affliction of my clairvoyant disease
Hate's Demise
Hate is such a powerful emotion
Causing another lifetime of pain
To spear the finality of our demise
The reality of our position
Gating the internal rain
And blocking the likes of an aspiration
Of financial maddening insane
To clean the slate of our enterprise
And be the program of those yet as slain
Is an act of pure affords devotion
An overwhelming operation
That brings unhinged a death campaign
And stops the wrong of those rights surprise
the fuzzy aura is our abstain
And at the
same time brings us to rise
And from this lively roar. We’re caused to eternally refrain
And the original life, begins to take shape as prize
We are enhancing the lovers’ only emotion
The color that of one unknown pain
Brings on the attack of our hates demise.
Chapter Five: Lost in the Mist
Logical Desire
The Siren's Spell
A Writer's Soul
The Crystal
Butterflies Flight
And I Say to Myself
Rhythm of the Ages
Love's Remembrance
Logical Desire
In the darkest depths
of human souls
There dwells a hope.
Eternal.
That which burns with fervored fire
spills beyond the eyes.
A love of logical desire
is the love that never dies.
Siren's Spell
The Island nests beneath a stormy sea.
Where Cliffs abide in rigored prose.
Sweet crimson copper mars the lay
of a shrouded nest and reef rocked bay.
Clouds caress the siren's prose.