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Dark Poetry #3
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The Dawn
| Dark Poetry #3 |
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The Dawn |
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Lady Moiraine Junior Member
since 2003-07-29
Posts 24Florida |
The Dawn She sleeps, perchance to dream To dream of his face so pale in the moonlight, so close to her she feels his breath gliding across her skin. She strokes his cheeks, so smooth, so soft to her touch like the softness of a newborn child. She presses her cheek against his and together they lay cheek to cheek bathed in moonbeams. She sleeps, perchance to dream To dream of his touch caressing every inch of her body. His hands soft as a velvet glove yet surging with the strength of a woodcutter’s hands wielding an axe. Touching her, feeling her skin, exploring her body’s every crevice and niche; each movement from his hands warming her; working her body into such passion she fears she will awake. She sleeps, perchance to dream To dream of his voice whispering words of love in her ear. The sound of each vowel, each consonant ringing in her head like chimes from a church bell. The sound of his moans as they unite as one under the glowing full moon as the mistress moon resides on her celestial throne; they show each other their love by succumbing to the will of their bodies. And the mistress moon looks down on them, shedding silver shadows across their sweating bodies. She sleeps, perchance to dream To dream of his love for her, her love for him and the joyous encounters they arranged. She dreams of their shared feelings, emotions, pleasures, passions and grief of each and every moment spent together. She lay dreaming of him. But it is darkest before the dawn The silver orb above is now cloaked in black and draped in sorrow. As she lay in her dreams a tear comes to the corner of her eye as she remembers he does not love her anymore. That ugly single word resonates throughout her head, chilling her to the bone. Another tear appears as she remembers the very day he cut her down with that one word………Goodbye. She continues to sleep to dream but the night is now black, no moon to reveal the shadows of his face. No moon to reveal the shadows of his body next to her. No moon to reveal the shadows of his love. She twists and turns, now thrashing about her bed as if fighting a demon. In her dream she is exchanging blows with a horrible, frenzied she-creature. She tries to protect her love; to keep him from the clutches of this beast before her, trying to steal him away from her. She is fighting with every bone, every fiber of her body to hang onto her man, her life, her love. But it is darkest before the dawn The she-demon laughs then rears up, wrenching the man from her arms. Still laughing, the demon finally wrenches him away. Now, both of them, the man and the beast laugh at her together as they slink into the blackness of the night, never to be seen again. It is darkest before the dawn Now as she lay, wasted in her bed, she does not want to wake. She does not want to dream. She does not want to live. For the demon has vanquished her and left her naked. Naked of her pride. Naked of her will. Naked of her love. The demon has won. As the first rays of the dawn filter through her window, she lay as if dead, stilled by her anguish, rendered immobile. A sunbeam hits her fevered face, illuminating the tears on her cheeks, giving her the appearance of tiny prisms upon her pallid face. She lay on her bed, unmoving, rigid as if Rigor Mortis himself has visited her already. Master sun whips the backs of his royal steeds pulling his fiery chariot across the heavens, heading towards the west, then sinking into the horizon. She lay there, on her bed, still, unmoving as the mistress moon peeks up into the night sky and climbs the stairway of stars to the celestial throne. The moonbeams tentatively reach into the bedroom as if searching for something to illuminate. As the moonbeams slowly light the room, chasing the shadows of love past into dark corners, the room takes on the insidious feeling of a battlefield. Nothing in the room shows any sign of struggle. The blanket is folded at the edge of the bed. Slippers rest under the bed, neatly placed and a robe hangs from the hook on the door. The sadness, sorrow and loss of the struggle the night before lay heavy in her bedroom. And she lay there, on her bed, eyes staring wide, unmoving. Not sleeping. Not dreaming. With tiny prisms on her cheeks [This message has been edited by Lady Moiraine (07-29-2003 04:10 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2003 Lady Moiraine - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah Lady, Welcome to Passions! Please, check your E-mail for a Special Greeting! The repetition you gave this piece added to the dreamlike quality which quickly evolved into a remarkable nightmare. To leave the poor dear in a coma was an excellent touch of macabre. I hope you find Passions to be a suitable home for your poetry. You might want to know, also, that your poetry is automatically copyrighted to your name, courtesy of the website Master, R. Carnell. It's one of those little functions of this site that make it a splendid home. Karilea - if I whisper, will you listen? |
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Lady Moiraine Junior Member
since 2003-07-29
Posts 24Florida |
in reply to: ___________________________________________ You might want to know, also, that your poetry is automatically copyrighted to your name, courtesy of the website Master, R. Carnell. It's one of those little functions of this site that make it a splendid home. ____________________________________________ Yes, I discovered that once it was posted. I went in to edit it and the site crashed! Just my luck. Thank you so much for viewing my work so quickly! I am brand spankin new here and have much to learn about your site. So far, I am impressed with the automatic copyright! Great idea! I will be back to view other peoples work after I get home from work tonight. |
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wranx Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689Moved from a shack to a barn |
A day in the life....Nice write ~wranx |
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green_itchy_stuff Senior Member
since 2003-06-26
Posts 1929New Caney, Tx |
Nice. This piece was a bit hypnotic. GIS a trickle of music from a well |
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Ceinwyn Member Elite
since 2000-07-09
Posts 2175VA |
I'm in awe...I mean that in the most sincere way possible...this was very hypnotic.... If at first you don't succeed destroy all the evidence that you tried. |
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Magicmystery Senior Member
since 2002-02-13
Posts 821Windsor, Ontario, Canada |
Well Done!!! I had been destined to my own bed..... but I was the moth too close to the flame here..... I was drawn in.... and I had to soak it all in. I am sooooo impressed with your style. And I can see myself in this poem (years ago) as well, you reminded me of a good friend who is now going thru the pain of this type of separation a mere 2 years (almost to the day) of their wedding. All in all, a heartbreaking, brillian first write Lady!!! Love, Light and Peace Sherry btw, you CAN go in and edit your work up to half an hour after you have posted by clicking on the little edit icon (looks like a paper and pen) at the top of your page. and if you don't like the little tag that reads "this message has been edited by _____ " at the bottom of your re-worked work, use the html tag ~~font color="ddeeff" for light colour tables and "bcdeff" for darker coloured tables. Cherish the good memories of the past and look forward to the adventure called Tomorrow. But above all... be kind to yourself today. |
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Lady Moiraine Junior Member
since 2003-07-29
Posts 24Florida |
in reply to: ___________________________________________ btw, you CAN go in and edit your work up to half an hour after you have posted... ___________________________________________ Hey, thank you so much for the information! And thank you all for the wonderful remarks, I appreciate that. I have a few more I can put up, but first I can't wait to get out and read the great poems here! |
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