Archive for the Dark Winter Fantasy Category

The Dance – re-post

Posted in Dark Winter Fantasy with tags , , , , , , , on December 21, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

For those who have never seen this, it is one of the first posts here at Mistress of Poetry, and I felt it was worth re-posting because I simply love this (even though I originally wrote it back in 2005) as a wintertime/Christmas-y story. Please enjoy!

It was a day I shall always remember,
A day in which heaven fell freezing at my doorstep
And all but the Tannenbaums were silent

In this wasteland of memories I sat thinking
In an argumentative dialogue with myself, I paced and sat , and paced again
In time with the sand which fell within the glass, I wrestled with my troubled soul

Angrily, I stared at my window, in chastisement of the fog,
Which now concealed my view
Hiding all but the shadows which lurked behind my confusion

Then I heard it…..
The soft footfalls which pounded within my drumming ears
Taunting me to look above the menagerie which lingered around my chair

Hesitantly I stood upon the floor which denied me the pleasure of a quiet walk
Groaning in harmony, my feet pursued the path where the grey light fell
Until I reached those glass eyes which opened with a jolt, and there, I saw her…

She was as cold as a winter’s breeze through my open window in December
Her elegant waltz in the falling embers of a dying angel’s wings
Enchanted, I gazed at her

Struck by her fragile form, I could not help but wonder at her movements
Graceful and adorned in ice-fairy kisses,
She danced until completely swallowed by the sea of white

I was caught so unaware at her lustful radiance,
That chance had ordained such grace of visitation
Not a closed lid would I have shown her had she looked my way

Then suddenly, without a single trace she vanished
What path she followed, I could not see
But stricken with the pain of longing, I scarce could endure but to follow

The flurry felt within the steps were but a fraction of the pounding of my heart
Which for the first of many years had leapt from my chest at such wondrous visions
Visions which betrayed my very breath

Running, I felt the chill of December chasing my flesh at a dizzying pace
For I had forgotten my coat in this coldest of winters
Frozen, without a thought for the winds, I had run into the storm

Silently, I heard again the footsteps of her dancing, beckoning my follow
So off into the fading light of evening I walked,
Never feeling the cold, never caring for any but the angel I had seen at my window

Deeper into the endless towers of the forest, I followed the sound
Echoing now as tiny bells,
The melody of my enchantress played on in my fever, which faded into delusion

Halted, I stood at the river, gazing
Pondered did I at my arrival, which jolted me from slumbering steps
Had I followed some witch bent at ending my lonely life?

Forsaken within, I slowly turned toward the sound of thunder
And I rememember no more
For as quickly as I had awakened, I fell into the deepest of slumbers, pierced only by the bells

It must have been days which passed
Delerium floated in dreams which could not have been imagined by mortals
Until finally, the light peered at my face in wonderment

In the snow had I fallen,
Struck by thundering horses with … bells… on the harnesses
Running free from the horseman, or could it have been the reaper’s mare?

Scarcely could I tell the difference
For what had nearly taken me from life had spared my lonely existence
Surely I would have died in my lack of bearings, in so deep a forest in winter

With such stark realization, I could not hesitate in my thankfulness
And greeted once again by the cold, I headed to the beginning
The beginning of my dance

I would never again see the angel which had vexed me so
But on silent winter nights, I can still hear the footsteps in my lucidity
As once again my heart pounds with delight, just before the dawn…

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.

The Sorrow of Winter

Posted in Winter Desolation with tags , , on December 12, 2010 by mistressofpoetry

Frozen by Arielle Carroll

Desolation looms in the background
Of every breath that lingers,
Half held and empty on branches
Barren and cold
Out there, somewhere
In every vision of endless death

Skies turned grey and lonely
Over streets left untrodden
Calling out
But no one answers
No one hears, and no one stirs
All is lost in the mist of dreams that time forgot

Decay in every aftermath
In every corner
In every step not taken
For there is no one left to bear them
No laughter and no tears
Nothing but the sound of gloom, whispering in the wind

Day and night, it’s all the same
Unending gloom
And destiny held in the hand of despair
As the clouds look on in mourning
For the lost child of winter
The one whom we all despised

In sorrow, she wept but one bitter tear
As her naked body froze
In the silence that was her only warmth
The beauty that was her heart of glass
Now a wasteland of memories that shall never return
Sending forth this misery with outstretched hands
Behind pale blue eyes that wish never to see again…

The Dance

Posted in Dark Winter Fantasy with tags , , , on December 7, 2010 by mistressofpoetry

It was a day I shall always remember,
A day in which heaven fell freezing at my doorstep
And all but the Tannenbaums were silent

In this wasteland of memories I sat thinking
In an argumentative dialogue with myself, I paced and sat , and paced again
In time with the sand which fell within the glass, I wrestled with my troubled soul

Angrily, I stared at my window, in chastisement of the fog,
Which now concealed my view
Hiding all but the shadows which lurked behind my confusion

Then I heard it…..
The soft footfalls which pounded within my drumming ears
Taunting me to look above the menagerie which lingered around my chair

Hesitantly I stood upon the floor which denied me the pleasure of a quiet walk
Groaning in harmony, my feet pursued the path where the grey light fell
Until I reached those glass eyes which opened with a jolt, and there, I saw her…

She was as cold as a winter’s breeze through my open window in December
Her elegant waltz in the falling embers of a dying angel’s wings
Enchanted, I gazed at her

Struck by her fragile form, I could not help but wonder at her movements
Graceful and adorned in ice-fairy kisses,
She danced until completely swallowed by the sea of white

I was caught so unaware at her lustful radiance,
That chance had ordained such grace of visitation
Not a closed lid would I have shown her had she looked my way

Then suddenly, without a single trace she vanished
What path she followed, I could not see
But stricken with the pain of longing, I scarce could endure but to follow

The flurry felt within the steps were but a fraction of the pounding of my heart
Which for the first of many years had leapt from my chest at such wondrous visions
Visions which betrayed my very breath

Running, I felt the chill of December chasing my flesh at a dizzying pace
For I had forgotten my coat in this coldest of winters
Frozen, without a thought for the winds, I had run into the storm

Silently, I heard again the footsteps of her dancing, beckoning my follow
So off into the fading light of evening I walked,
Never feeling the cold, never caring for any but the angel I had seen at my window

Deeper into the endless towers of the forest, I followed the sound
Echoing now as tiny bells,
The melody of my enchantress played on in my fever, which faded into delusion

Halted, I stood at the river, gazing
Pondered did I at my arrival, which jolted me from slumbering steps
Had I followed some witch bent at ending my lonely life?

Forsaken within, I slowly turned toward the sound of thunder
And I remember no more
For as quickly as I had awakened, I fell into the deepest of slumbers, pierced only by the bells

It must have been days which passed
Delirium floated in dreams which could not have been imagined by mortals
Until finally, the light peered at my face in wonderment

In the snow had I fallen,
Struck by thundering horses with … bells… on the harnesses
Running free from the horseman, or could it have been the reaper’s mare?

Scarcely could I tell the difference
For what had nearly taken me from life had spared my lonely existence
Surely I would have died in my lack of bearings, in so deep a forest in winter

With such stark realization, I could not hesitate in my thankfulness
And greeted once again by the cold, I headed to the beginning
The beginning of my dance

I would never again see the angel which had vexed me so
But on silent winter nights, I can still hear the footsteps in my lucidity
As once again my heart pounds with delight, just before the dawn…

(Note from the author: Sorry for the word wrap. This was originally written in triplets.) 🙂

Ghosts of Winter

Posted in Dark Winter Fantasy with tags , , on December 6, 2010 by mistressofpoetry

Far away, in many a distant dreaming
I fell
Deep into some chasmous dark ending
The end of all
And the end of none
For what it was, I cannot say

Recollection evades me, but I remember the chill
As ice and memory drove deep and jagged
Memories of drought
Emotional famine
All but the loneliness of time
In that, I drowned millions of times

Over and over I sat, fading
Scarcely wondering should I dare to hope
As the snow refused to fall
And my dreams refused to die
In those barren landscapes outside my windowpane
Long since dead, where trees fall silent

Endless I gazed into the dreary netherworld
Empty and abandoned
Waiting, watching
For his shadow to pierce the fog
Yet all these colorless orbs could see
Were the phantom towers of winter

Perhaps I joined them, or perhaps I died
Somewhere between my hopelessness and dreams
Down rocky paths of eager failure
When came the dark stranger
Who now inhabits me
Or perhaps it is I who possessed him

A beautiful tragedy or a never-ending nightmare
We walk the path of ebony
For it is the only path we wish to know
Dead eyes see no fortune
But they do see truth
Just as the forests see the shadows of time

Such are the laws of melancholia
Sad spirits only find peace through misery
Inside, death is but a path forever waking
And forever living
It breathes through our hands in strokes of pain
Etching our formless ghosts onto the canvas of eternity…