Archive for Mourning the Dream

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…

A Song of Desolate Gardens

Posted in From a Melancholic Soul, The Pain of Life with tags , , on March 12, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

Unlock_the_Secrets by Arielle Carroll

I burn upon this miserable sod that my feet evermore are forced to tread
My soul is a wanderer from the farthest stretches that my spirit dares to dream
Oh, my father, why have I been cursed upon this silence?
I am the desolate child, lost within thousands of tears which water this barren soil
The gardens arise with the mist that I, forsaken, have come to whisper upon the wind
For eternity, I shall crumble within this sorrowful song.

I pour out my lasting love upon those ears which turn away
And I cry the morrow, wherewith the sun will never shine
How could I have borne my sins to the sky,
When all I have desired is this single embrace
which the flowers of my sanctity alone will bear for me
When the melody becomes only a tear, stolen by the breeze

There is worth within the sparkling rivers of my solitary hope
They who dream in tears
And fall in ash
This is the birthplace of my peaceful fairytale
Where I would be a queen of the dew
With tiny wings to kiss each petal and lay my empty soul to rest

One day, when the melody has carried me to my far-away dream
And the sand has travelled to your shore
I shall sit and listen to the wind
And fare away the pain which renders me broken and alone,
For my words will fall upon the wishes in this grove
Where the burning will be but the memory of a tear-filled past.