Array ( [sid] => 186429 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Exchange [time] => 2019-07-24 20:34:58 [hometext] => Co-written by Jaye and Rich [bodytext] => The bedroom fell silent and cold as he slept.
The pendulum stopped. Time went unkept.
Drunk in his slumber, with nothing to dread,
Watched by the photos alongside his bed.
A victorian nightstand held his lost lass,
Frozen in sepia, pressed under glass.
Framed in white silver, tarnished to black.
The house bowed its head and her image looked back.

Shrouded by curtains that blackened all sound;
Cradled by feathers so deep he could drown.
The candles went out, the shadows approached.
And out of the glass came the breath of her ghost.
Unable to move, unable to scream,
Under the covers and into his dream.
A kiss of enchantment, a talisman’s chain,
Into his soul sank her ghastly remains.
Magic so black the house held its breath;
Trembling while life lost its battle with death.
Casting his image into her past.,
Into the picture frame. Under the glass!

The mistress is known through the village by all.
Her parties are legend, and so are her walls.
Bare to the bone that she may walk by;
And pass not a mirror. (for mirrors can’t lie).
Her beauty’s illusion; whose price has been paid.
Brings young men to court her; who would be her slaves;
In tafetta gowns in the cloak of the grave.

Jaye and Rich
2019 [comments] => 4 [counter] => 177 [topic] => 13 [informant] => ingeniusidiot [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - The Exchange


The Exchange
Date: Wednesday, 24th July 2019 @ 08:34:58 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: ingeniusidiot
The bedroom fell silent and cold as he slept.
The pendulum stopped. Time went unkept.
Drunk in his slumber, with nothing to dread,
Watched by the photos alongside his bed.
A victorian nightstand held his lost lass,
Frozen in sepia, pressed under glass.
Framed in white silver, tarnished to black.
The house bowed its head and her image looked back.

Shrouded by curtains that blackened all sound;
Cradled by feathers so deep he could drown.
The candles went out, the shadows approached.
And out of the glass came the breath of her ghost.
Unable to move, unable to scream,
Under the covers and into his dream.
A kiss of enchantment, a talisman’s chain,
Into his soul sank her ghastly remains.
Magic so black the house held its breath;
Trembling while life lost its battle with death.
Casting his image into her past.,
Into the picture frame. Under the glass!

The mistress is known through the village by all.
Her parties are legend, and so are her walls.
Bare to the bone that she may walk by;
And pass not a mirror. (for mirrors can’t lie).
Her beauty’s illusion; whose price has been paid.
Brings young men to court her; who would be her slaves;
In tafetta gowns in the cloak of the grave.

Jaye and Rich
2019

This poem is Copyright © ingeniusidiot


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