Archive for desolate landscapes

Patterns on the Mire

Posted in Goodbye, Loss, Remembrance, The Pain of Life, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 2, 2012 by mistressofpoetry

 

Rain falls softly on my field of remembrance
Years spent in the evening gloom
As the breeze breaks through my song
And I recall the echoes of a life long past

In truth, it was but a memory’s glance at salvation
For all it was worth
I never saw a smile which did not pierce my heart
With agony
With judgement
With lost hope which dared not lift its face

My confessions reach beyond the veil I drew in sorrow
Sorrow for the many truths which now lie in dust and mourning
Forgotten and torn for vultures to devour
As my soul dies gently in dreams which know no end

A heart painted black by pain, which even now you hide
An empty wish spoken to the bearer of mine eyes
But vision fell deep upon the stains you still carry
And I looked hard into your soul, and saw no tears
Only blind rage coursed through the brush you held
As I ran into the wilderness of remorse

There, behind all the laughter
Falling from each whisper of my spirit’s breath
Lay a pain which cannot find retreat
For there is no morning to embrace the dew
And no night for my setting sun
Not even a teardrop to dine upon the soil

Do not wonder at the reason
When the bells toll upon my grave
Do not dare to shed your tears
For it was you who placed me beneath the stone

The garden grows tall with the recollection
That only the ghosts are willing to speak
The rust and ruin of forgotten yesterdays
Self-evidence within the patterns on the mire
As my silent novel fearfully repeats
And marks but one last word upon a fading memory
Why?

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.

A Dream of Sleep

Posted in Fantasy, For the Dreamer, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 20, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

 

The stars hide far away
In the darkness of my mind
As the flames grow dim inside
Seeking solitary warmth
Yet finding emptiness and cold
Within tired unblinking orbs

Sleep has forgotten me
Somewhere in the misery
Pacing anxiety in service to the night
Lost in half-dreams and silence
Desperate, slowly dying
Another victim of the mirror
Another horror stalks the fear I hide

Passing through etherium
Breathing deep then not at all
A wish for peaceful fantasy
Drowned by struggling madness
Gasping for life
Leaving claw marks on the corridors within

Oh labyrinth, swallow me
Take me to thy netherworld
Oblivious to the morning light
Rest has fled so far away
Chasing fireflies
In some long-forgotten realm
In some distant palace where my soul resides

Wandering through these halls
Anticipating death to call
Grasp the blade to close my eyes…
Dreaming in a fog
Past the break, I’ve come this far
Waking daylight comes again

A Stranger Behind These Eyes

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Loss, The Pain of Life with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 8, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

A stranger, I wander alone inside;
For all that I have known, I do not know who stares behind these eyes.
I no longer belong in this place of scowling faces.

Hatred have I recieved for every breath I take,
Rejection has adorned my soul in black;
For it was painted as the shadow in which I roam.

My flesh, so cold and lonely,
For all who would dare to touch me are just as I,
And I find this is most beloved of my mournful soul–to find understanding.

These lost spirits who, abandoned, have found peace within the dark–
These are my true companions
For they know the structure of the intricate dreams that I dream.

The tears escape my eyes,
Which, burning with fatigue and desecrated visions, have sought the end so many times,
But within, still, remains the ponderings of a suffocating struggle to be free.

I question each sound which reverberates within this mind of illusory departure.
To find emotion once more; to find the dreamer which lurks inside these dying halls.
My labrynth is filled with deadly passages, consumed with madness and fear.

I have journeyed far, over the ocean of a time which feeds upon a haggard battlefield,
As the obelisk-like formations resonate the terrifying silence,
For these ancient monoliths have fallen, and I wish not to set foot upon that dread place.

The seasons of waking nightmares have been left behind,
But this is a place that I no longer know, and I am the stranger here.
All eyes are upon my transparent form, and I am become one of the ghosts in this place.

My existence is a perilous void, seeking substance within,
But it is my true companions which have held me fast in the sweat of my disease.
When my wanderings subside, it is their eyes which I will long to see–
Love beyond love, sight beyond vision, trust beyond that of life and death;
And I will fear no more…

Desert’s Child

Posted in Fantasy, For the Dreamer, From a Melancholic Soul, Passion and Pain, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 23, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

Please take me away
To the sands of my birth
The dream of my incarnation
Where first I breathed the morning
And exhaled the dusk
May the land hear my call
For I am alone again

Pain seeks its treasure in buried temples
Ancient, yet not forgotten
Not by me
For I was awakened in a bed of rage
Bringing storms across distant horizons
My yesterdays of wrath
Which fill my tomorrows once more

Let the sands caress my face
And the sweat kiss my eyes
For my vision burns of you, my home
Humanity will take its leave of me
For what I never was cannot remain
Only the spirit which was born of this fire
And the body which tempts not the fortunes of bliss

The barren sun weeps for its lost child
In a death-trance which mourning could not overtake
I can hear the moans which erupt from both above and below
It surrounds me with a desire which could never be quenched
For I belong with the jackals and the asps
I am the heart which rises in its grave
A traveller carried home by the wind

I will reach my horizon
I will see the visions in my dreams
Forever could not hold back this longing
For it is older than the seas
And furious in its need
The inhuman force resonating in my pulse
I will return, a child of the sand and a god of the lonely flame…

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…