literature

Soliloquy - riverside echo

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Literature Text

In all the dreams my searing wounds have grown
Flesh from my flesh, cry from cry
There was an echo of an august dawn
When her pale ghost took form before my very eyes
Upon the garden where I, these eerie seeds have sown
...these seeds that I now reap alone...

Her voice was like a sweet, but poisoned wine,
A dreaded liquor, only lovers cherished
And spilled voiceful drops upon their numb decline
Alas, yet  how did their armies have perished
Now only echoes haunt their wretched shrines
And  echoes only, so calm and painfully do bury
Their cries...faded entwined...

"Hush" she whispered and took me by the hand
Into the lighthouse where our memories
Could rise cathedrals from the frantic sea
(For poets to harbor their blissful agony,
For us to cheat our hollow, bitter end)
[Whose ugly ghost, alas, would not cheat me]
Into that lighthouse now, on bended knees
Only my barren angel stands...



"Tis time", I heard a voice, out of dark
A voice I knew only so long ago
Be still, I said, be still, my wretched woe
We are alone, only my crippled heart
Could hope I would seal open this cursed, fiendish mark
Of dreams my searing wounds have grown
Flesh from my flesh, cry from my cry
Where once the echo of an august dawn
Brought light and solace to mine eyes
[And brought my sickened soul to lie]
For the ghost, the voice I knew so long ago
Were mine, and mine alone...
-
© 2011 - 2024 beholdabluehorse
Comments1
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Ahh,I know so well the taste of that poisoned wine that you describe.. I would drink it again and again