We held hands within the snow,
the gray trees stood
like graves
the prints of ghosts
impressed upon the virginal
white surface,
it was then I realized
I stood there alone.
A splash of red,
like birth, death,
a maiden sacrifice,
I did not remember the rain,
but I remember the blood
it was there I saw your face,
a strange lover's miracle.
I let myself fall back
into the powder
like a cloud
where I make myself into an angel,
I always dreamed
of having wings,
while I feel my fingers
numbing in the cold,
if I close my eyes,
perhaps I can
fly away.
Will you be there
waiting on the other side
beyond the brimming storm?
I watch my vein pulsing
against the surface of my skin
and I marvel at how easy
it would be to excavate,
let it bloom into a fount of blood.
Sink my teeth in,
cannibalize myself,
become my own vampire
with no master but the one
we all answer in the end.
Feel your name vibrate
down the back of my throat
with every racing beat of my heart,
until I begin to lose focus
and my head starts to spin
widdershins of the dervish in my mind.
Soon a hush will fall,
all will grow calm,
blackness a warm embrace
and I promise to die
with your name in my final breath
though you will never know why.
I love you darkly,
my heart is an eclipse
which sheds no light,
it is in shadows,
and moonless nights
that love is clung to most,
though it may become
as the chocking vine
in desperation.
I love you darkly,
haunted by your touch,
you are the phantom
of my dreams,
every memory a ghost
which calls out to me
in the night.
I love you darkly,
my heart sings the song
of a lone wolf's howl
when you are gone,
and I will find you like a hunter
within the fog.
I love you darkly,
for I never learned
how to love any other way,
wearing your name in scars
upon my arm,
for you I offer the sacred blood rite.
I love you darkly,
a black
Time ticks by
with slow madness,
hours bleeding
through the walls
each revolution
chokes upon itself,
strangled by clock hands
etching time
upon the face,
occasional seconds
seem to wink
with hints of malevolence,
minutes grimace
each muscle moves
with the speed of glass
taking eternities to melt.
Ostentatiously bedecked
in golden frame
which proves to be naught
but gilded facade,
its shimmering surface
whispers only lies and deceit.
Entrancing the vain
lavishing in seeing themselves
complimented by such gaudy
trimmings, their own beauty
may so easily wear away
as the varnish that so
impresses them with
the shine of false affluence.
They pray at this altar
to which they sell away
their souls, and never notice
the decay which starts to crack
around their edges as the glass
becomes dingy, and its filigree
erodes, from gold to gray-green.
Frightful beauty shined from the ice in her eyes,
her chilly smile made your heart freeze in place
and with her always followed heavy gray skies,
stony composure lingers on her face,
the blizzards of her wind sound as Banshee cries,
drift to sleep and accept her silent embrace
smothered by the endless snow her hair,
with her purity and death hang in the air.
Lost in the woods with no light in sight
You tentatively step forward, a gamble of life to take
The trees leer at you, closing you in tight
They twist to the wind’s whim like a vicious snake
To drag you deeper into their ghostly home
You clutch yourself, wandering forever in the night
You feel a presence behind you like that of a ghost
You try to shake it off, but whirl around in worriment
To only the pitch black in the comfort of forest host
You continue forward, cold and silent
The forest howls trying to frighten you
You ignore it, the way out was important the most
You come to a clearing and leap back in shock
There is a tall man i
There are those that depend
upon the sun, they cling around
its edges, afraid of losing sight of it,
plastered against it, they follow
wherever it goes, trusting only
its light to lead their way,
and when it begins to stretch
far out of the reach of their eyes
they are rendered paralyzed,
and like the shadows find a way
to vanish.
And there are the more daring ones
who navigate by the stars,
entrusting their bodies to those
celestial lights which burn through the night,
over womb-like, yet often hungry,
devouring seas they follow these
ghosts of the sky, reminders of pale
gaslights, they beckon home.
But this is nothing to the oft