Archive for November, 2011

Chasms of a November Storm

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Passion and Pain, Winter Desolation with tags , , , , , , on November 29, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

In the secret chambers of a tranquil mirage, I am captive to the doom that awaits–
This romance of apocalyptic fantasies in the fires of a November storm.
Frigid sands of an ancient secret, send me to the eyes of redemption’s kiss;
Transform me in the land of virgin screams, absent of mindless torment,
For I will become a temptress in waiting, a scornful apparition of death.
I am hated, and will always be so; love me not in the frost of the snow-filled prison of despair.

The embers of my execution day, revived in the scent of oblivion’s flame;
I was chained in the days of my innocent youth, and burned by the hatred of scorn.
“You who consumed my faith in the silence of a stalker’s dream,
Will feel the fear which I felt; you shall taste the poison of my tears,
Convulse in the pain of my soul’s blade, a dagger of unending nightmares.”
Alive, and yet dead, the spirits of the past are reborn.

A vicious circle, trapped in the core; I cannot see the end of torment’s consuming fear.
What I am, lost in the chaos of emotions that dwell in the heart of the storm;
A mirage of consciousness, thunder in the audience of life;
Visions long forgotten return to the source of dreams,
As I travel the labyrinth of my mind, a frost-laden fury guides my eyes.
Raging flame of my will, passion’s elusive paths are revealed in the chasms of November ice.

Beneath the Waves, My Spirit Waits

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul with tags , , , , , , , , on November 17, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

 

Oh, phantoms of the cold, misty ocean, lead me in the winds of death,
For I cannot resist the call of the grave.
Silent, and adorned in screams from within the chasm of forever,
You are to me a comfort in the northern winds of remorse,
Taking me to the place of shadow within shadow,
As I alone sleep upon the hordes of majestic darkness surrounding me,
My spirit, in eternal sorrow–a whispered serenade to the night.

Desolate canyons of a wandering spirit call out my echoing tears.
In the depths of the waters below is my ever-still, ever-silent soul.
So deadly is the caress of this dark melody;
It will send the angels to the darkness,
And the ravens will fall from flight,
As I follow the crystalline blackness within these cold waves,
Bidding a farewell to the pain of this bleak life.

Falling into the cold earth, into the endless darkness of the sea,
Chariots from the silent deep come to join my descent
Into the mists of the great ending.
Will you remember me, my beloved?
Will you chase the ocean to it’s end for me?
For I am waiting, my spirit lost in the crashing screams;
So cold, yet still waiting, searching for my dream.

See the barren moon, watch the silent stars shine upon my grave–
Reflections on the frozen water, slowly changing form–
As the echos of my life swear their love for you.
The northern star knows not how I remain trapped inside the night:
Withered petals, caught in the dancing breeze, sweetly giving their perfume,
As the angels again whisper their ageless sorrow;
For fallen am I, forever in the deep blue of my silent tomb, waiting for
you.