Archive for the From a Melancholic Soul Category

Midnight’s Caress

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

Sands shift slowly in worlds which collide
The heaven which I sought now falls beyond my reach
As the seasons unfold in chaos

My eyes seek the solitude of dreams
For they are the only breath that is left in me
If but for a moment I could breathe
And yet I long for them as a child longs for its mother
Desecration of warmth
Violation of sanctuary
The seas stir against me
And I fall along the path which I alone walked many times

My moon, which kisses the horizon on her way to eternity
She sings softly the gift of respite
However brevid, it soothes my heart for the night
And I dream again

Morning rises to meet the lover’s eyes
So sweetly, they join in a dance which I know not
I hear them in the footsteps of my soul
The laughter, I despise
An embrace that leaves me in want
Were it not for the solemn thoughts within midnight’s caress
I would be lost whole in emptiness eternal
Yet a darker heaven is seen more clearly
In the shadow of my reflective stare.

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Of the Rain

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, The Madness of Art with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 11, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

Characteristic Circles of Droplets by Arielle Carroll

A black cat graces the upholstery
As I sit in the filtered spectacle of fading light.
Towers gaze at me from a distance,
But I am much farther than they —
Drifting, somewhere in the mist-filled horizon of dreams.

She sings softly to my companion and I —
Her voice as soothing as any I have heard —
Injecting memories both fond and powerfully distraught,
Though, for the latter – the ghosts are inescapable,
And I have come to terms with their melancholia.

I smile, knowing the grievance by which she comes.
She understands the plight I bear as the sun crosses paths with its elder reflection —
That pain, which I write so eloquently upon the parchment —
It is my salvation from the haunted dancer who lurks in every corner of my mind,
Satiated only by my end; but she will stay my fear.

I would that days such as this remained always with me.
Though no other could see such beauty in her ways, I see ecstasy.
The patterns in her tears are nourishment to me
As art paints itself upon the canvas of my soul and flows to the pen;
And her imaginations enchant me beyond the comfort of sanity.

Nature embraces her chilling caress in blossoms of vibrant hue;
Chants fall from the children of the soil;
And the drums of the mother’s heartbeat reverberate aloud.
I could fall thousands of times,
But her kisses will always cover my frail weepings.

My heart would join with the silhouette on my window,
Tracing stream-like fingers which touch my inner workings.
Would any wise man embrace her love,
He would rejoice in such comfort,
For her passion would melt the stoniest heart who dared to touch her tears.

The Pearl

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Perseverance, The Pain of Life, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , on February 25, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

Freedom_Is_A_Long_Way_Away_by Arielle Carroll

 

Funeral of my soul
I have brought forth the chalice for thy grief
To fill with tears
Emotions fallen on deaf hearts and blind greed
They darken with each breath
And in hatred, seethe the darkest black of my broken star
Wishes never spoken

Mirrored in nightmares
I could throw myself from my chariot
Riding low upon the fields
Tangled in a web of chaotic guilt
There is no escape for me
No angel to hearken the nights filled with weeping
And no hand to wipe away the tears

Why can I not break?
Why must I remain in these bloodstained halls
On paths which I wish to forget?
Death holds no promise
Neither the morn
For I have besought all pleasure and pain
Only to hold this one quiescent pearl of being.

My gaze cannot pierce its treasure
Nor can my thoughts behold it’s meaning
For so long I have been alone
Years filled with the curse of sorrow’s temptation
So few have seen the unknown depths
But then so few have dared to look
As I held onto this one small gift which fell from within

The gods have betrayed a fool
My fate in this labyrinth of whispered regret
I am a pauper’s forbidden bounty
Hidden in the silence of the bedchamber wall
Beauty which could not foresee a dream of light
Wishing never to be gazed upon again
Mourning these forsaken memories, in dust.

Paradox Betrothed in a Tear

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Remembrance, The Pain of Life, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , , on January 28, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

Closed_Eye_Visuals_by_Arielle_Carroll

The sands of time have ravaged my soul
In the lost essence of a single, unadulterated tear
Pure in its wasted chasms
Emptied of all its mirth
To trace the barren heart with its toil

The sideshow freaks stare on
Appalled yet entertained by my absent presence
The facade of someone ever lost
To the echoing branches of a far distant shore
The brazen opportunity to vanquish the present
And embrace what has not yet become

The glimmering shadow of the abyss takes form
Casting leaves to the wind
And mercy to the rain-filled sky
Replenishing the soil with its fertile yet dank mysteries
Plentitude from the heaven without
As the darkness within grows ever greater in stature

The marigolds stink of the wretched sun
Yet they bow to the nourishment below
Soaking up death like rays of light
Yet longing for the warmth of spring
To release their tempered joy

Hallowed are these fields of mine
Forested towers with ebony crowns
Cloaked in the embers of memory
And fed by the renewal of pain
Like scented drops of jasmine
Flowing deep into the cracks
Where light and dark are one…

Distant Awakenings

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Perseverance, The Pain of Life, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 19, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

As the moonlight scatters its orbital procession across distant visions of eternity
At once I feel at peace with the disharmonic chatter of angels in the background
Following me from afar, they fear not the darkness,
Nor the solitary ways of the wanderer which sits stunned by the delight of nocturnal ebonies
Shadows which dance behind the flickering darkness of the candle
Waiting, watching as the eve falls all the more silent
And in stillness, sing a thousand songs to the wounds which grace my body with pleasure

Formidable champions they are, which sought the quietude of night to approach
And in the small corners of my waking mind, peer out, fixated by grimacing spectres
Floating amid the ripples
Prostrate against the barren landscape
As the mist rises with the approaching dawn
A swift rider appears in the heavenly garden
Forming droplets on forever’s tomorrow : tears which wait to be shed

I have all but joined them in the march across the celestial break
Shimmering ghosts which call my name
I reach up to touch them, but quickly fall away,
As I am plunged backward toward the abyss
Reality seizes my soul in fortitudinal abominations
And I lack the will to leap beyond its reach
Into the darkness of the unknown; into the dream, which even now haunts my very breath

Waiting, watching as the strokes painstakingly make their journey
Like drums, pounding in my mind
I must find my escape, I must return to the darkness from whence I came
Somewhere, far from this horrid and devouring demon
Who sits quietly, knowingly
And in all things, points toward the mirror
Where stands a woman, a million nights enrobed, and in pain

The demon knows not that I am forever
Only the body shall remain,
For the scars which enshroud this spirit are a chosen reality which I wholly accept
I will return to the lake which drinks my waiting tears
For I am one of many which lurk within the deep dreams of distant awakenings
Brilliant and fading, to catch the dew just one more time
And drink full the wisdom of a single breath, quietly freezing in the temple of the night.

Distort

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Passion and Pain, Remembrance with tags , , , , , , , , on January 7, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

Unlock The Secrets by Arielle Carroll

 

I saw your dream last night
In shades of grey and black
Mingling with the ivory of your heart
Slowly distorting the shadows
To make them seem as light

I heard your scream last night
In whispers of hell
Betrayal of yourself
Slowly turning your smile to tears
All the while, killing me inside

I felt your touch last night
Warm against my heart
And yet it felt so cold inside
A silent call for bleeding
As the ravenous devoured

I saw my soul dying today
In contorted shapes of pain
As the marksman pierced my will
And the fog surrounded my form
–Silently lonely for myself

Painfully longing for your breath
Upon my mind
Speaking sanity upon the flittering dove
Turned black
How I wished for death!

Darkening reality shattering my dreams
Misery is flesh
As the wrathful abyss opens wide
To the charity of hate
And the fire burns away the wholeness that was

Ash to ash, soul to soul
We fall short of the truth within
Our mind is but a prison cell
With twisted bars
And fading hope, even while escape is in view

I saw the world as a blind man today
The murder of the sun
And contented as I was to see it fall
I wished for one clear moment
To wipe it all away…

 

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.