Archive for Melancholy

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

Autumn’s Frozen Wish

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Passion and Pain, Perseverance, Remembrance, The Pain of Life, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , on October 16, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

Characteristic Circles of Droplets by Arielle Carroll

Sweet rain, fall on my face
And wash away the years of emptiness I feel,
For in your eyes I am but a child
Longing for the kiss of an eternal dream
A dream which left me alone in this dismal heaven,
Dismal, but in the morrow sees my smile.

Fresh tears, fresh pain
And a need for regret
Yet I can feel nothing but the stirring of the storm
As the seas boil in honor of suffering.

Characteristic Circles of Droplets2 by Arielle Carroll

Autumn’s chill seeks the dreary soul
And embraces the willing with arms as wide as the sky
Could it be that I have been merely frozen in disbelief
Or is it with certainty that I care no more?
The flames of hatred have scorched my flesh
With all the pain of words which no longer tear my lips from quietude.

A new fall, fresh rain
And still I find it cumbersome
How life has failed to lift vengeance with the sun
As all the more I wish for pain to quench my thirsting sorrow.

My lady of the dew, my storming cancer
If it were a wish that I could make, I’d wish it all away
And let only your darkness cover me
For I have learned what it is to paint with the colors of black
And be discharged from grace so oft as I breathe
For what is it but darkness which created me
And what is it but darkness, which washes my tears with rain?

Characteristic Circles of Droplets 3 by Arielle Carroll

Dead Harvest

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Passion and Pain with tags , , , on September 25, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

If there were a time
That I could live
Never leaving the tender gaze of the leaves
Dressed in their vibrant yet fading colours
Such would be my eternity

For I would always crave their shimmering touch
Draped in want of the spring
Ever thirsting for the clear waters of renewal
But not a drop would they drink

Soon I will fade into the wood
Run free and never look back
The patriarch will clothe me in the jeweled ivy of the undergrowth
And keep me safe and warm
Within his loving hands of dew-scented ecstasy

But these cruel words of yours twist within my mind
Deafening my desire
And drowning out all beauty, all passion
With the noise of your hate

Would I dare to dream beneath your storm?
I would dare to silence your breath with the bare branches of winter
For I cannot live and be dead all at once
My heart cannot allow such deadly nightmares to breed on
Never knowing any comfort, never feeling the tenderness of the sun

You failed to water me, even in the midst of your rains
And I have withered like an orchid in the desert
Now your touch only breeds decay
For I crumble like those petals and drift away with the wind

Would you notice my absence?
Or would you cry, desperate for my bleeding corpse?
Sympathy only lasts a season
For what harvest can you bring me
When all that was promised is now dead?

Agony, Beloved

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul with tags , , , , on September 18, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

I am born from the bondage of a furious pain
Known only to the inner sanctum of my own demise
This darkness in which I bore my soul to the air
In the shadows, where I shall dwell

Eternal night has consumed the evening solitude
And I sit in wonder at what anguish awaits my fevered dreams
The severed horizon of my sanctity devours what meaning might have grasped deliverance
For I have always found an icy stare beyond the embrace of false hope

When will the breath of release build the fire within,
And will I be able to behold the fury of this pain?
I am one with rejection
My wrath is known to a thousand eyes
My weakness is known to only a few
And yet I am blemished with this path of confusion
For which I recieve punishment

I will not hide my soul from the one who dares to enter my sanctuary
Who would touch my deepest fears with a thorn of understanding?
I bleed, and yet, bare, I fold inward against the wave of tears which embrace the flame
I feel the burning steel of lonliness, desire, and rage in forms which are beyond shape
Colorless phantoms which knew no light
In my darkest pain, I dream a whisper of one voice

Look upon my desolation, and adorn my face with flowing scarlet
For these barren thoughts knew not the caress of time
Thy hand reaches out to the end, and brings back forbidden nourishment
I will drink the dew from thy chalice, and eternal, mourn for misery’s tender embrace.

Pain is my salvation
For charity has left me empty in want
I join the entity in darkness, my beloved, enduring agony
In cascades of night beyond what aura can be seen…


Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Goodbye, Loss, Remembrance with tags , , , , on September 9, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

Disembodied thoughts like whirlwinds in the skies
Trace unending memory
Fearful desperation
For an ever silent day
Far from here

Voices never heard
Yet every moment
Lay cherished and unbroken
While time stood still
And brevity hid in shadow
A teacher and a thief

Still I crave the sound
Of your sweet soul
Sung softly in the dark
Which desecrated my tomb
Torn open
From within

It was pain that brought us mirth
And pain which drives the tears
That fell on bitter soil
A secret seed to sow
Of desolate dreams unentered
Despondent and awake

Blood and mist
Fade like flowers
In the chasm of our soul
Yet the flame still burns against the cold
As our world slowly turns
To walk away

Desert Prodigal

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, Passion and Pain, Perseverance, The Pain of Life, Through the Passage of Time with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 4, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

Falling forever, it seems like nothing has changed
A runaway in the desert, following streams that led me astray
Hours turn to years of loneliness under a blinding sun
And all I can say for my bitterness is that I still feel

Thirsty and angered at all that life has repaid
Hatred and lust toward my only guiding star
As the sand takes my vision away
And hides my tears deep in the morrow of pain

Pleasure will scorch me with flames that bear loneliness
Twisted as life has become, those flames have become my smile
As many a torment has caressed my cheek
And it is all that I understand

Spun in the threads of a storm for so long
I can’t remember the last face to greet me
Dry desert trails this prodigal has traced
To simply find a friend

Fear for the angels who come to take my broken spirit away
Nothing more to mourn for, and nothing left of me
As phantoms embrace my lost and dying heart
To lead me once more to grace

In that final, whispered dream of a thought
As my eyes clear away the debris of a thousand wars
The stream reappears from the flow of my heart
And the burden lay before me in the form of rain

Blood mixed with water far too long held back
An oasis springs forth in the echoes of release
As chains of emotion bound by Hell’s angry eyes
Fall from tattered wings… and scream

The journey falls upward in a furious storm
As the vultures reveal the decay
Had not I fallen, I’d never have lived
Beauty was the desert in my fallen eyes
Blinded and opened by pain… to set me free…

Eternal_Slave_of_Fear_by_Arielle Carroll