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.

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Haunted Lullaby

Posted in A Mother's Love, In Response to Headlines, Loss with tags , , , , , , , , on February 8, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

Eternal_Slave_of_Fear_by_Arielle Carroll

Sleep my darlings
I see you there
Waiting by the tearful willow
Behind the veil of blinding light
Your future and my past

Teaching patience unfulfilled
With wishes never granted
Sorrow carving streams of pain
With echoes never answered

And if the silence
Could tell its tale
I would dare not speak the truth
For how could I betray your innocence
By my murder within this room?

Lives shattered like the mirror’s gaze
Broken with each scream
Return the soul to walk at night
And watch here while you dream

Rest my darlings
I am here,
And never will I leave
Enter peaceful, loving shores
And listen while I sing

Mother’s voice,
I know it well
Whispered in the breeze
Every night I feel her hand
Soft against my cheek

Daddy, can’t you hear her song
Can’t you see her ghost-like image
Walking on the moonlit moor
Like an angel’s pallid visage?

Dreams turned darkly
Forged in fear
Vengeance taken slowly
Madness driving men to die
When to Hell they sink so lowly

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…

 

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.