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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 23:15:28 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 141389
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => I: Shadowed Flames of Passion
[time] => 2008-04-05 10:51:57
[hometext] => This is my first poem I have submitted in quite a few months. Give it a read and leave a comment. Thank you.
[bodytext] => I: Shadowed Flames of Passion My name is one of withered lore; A whisper seldom heard. So it is here where I implore That if my name you seek explore, You listen close to every word. T was a thousand years ago that I Had known my mortal kin. Yet four and twenty years I lie Abreast the night I bid goodbye And bore my new immortal grin. The master that had beckoned me To a life of sunless skies, Had sought the subtle guarantee, Like Count Lestat for his Louie, Of flaunted rich and classy ties. Our life at first was hidden fast From all the prying souls That drift and roam the somber past Of life’s embittered dawning cast, To reap rewards and fetid goals. No mortal eye, no mortal bane Had ever known our secret there; Until the night when Luna reigned, Her glowing gaze, a calm domain, And left our lives with sweet despair. In the midst of nightly haunting When we flew and struck our prey A woman there so soft and daunting, With her dress, forever wanting, Flowing, growing, never stopped its sway. I had not seen her silhouette But left to take what I desired. Mistaking her as not a threat, I later found, and did regret, That what I fancied, she admired And after all the life was gone From out the victim I had sought, When all the blood had been withdrawn, Her body pale, a brilliant swan, I gazed into the face I near forgot. The woman stood not steps away And stole my very eyes. She wore an air of calm display, With hair an ebon rose bouquet; A vestal maiden bred to tantalize. For moments yet I stood and stared; The corpse, a burden ’pun my breast’ But neither I nor her had dared To utter words that near declared The details of the other’s current quest. After what appeared to be A silent pulse, a glittered mask; The moment stained eternity. A flash of sensuality. And then I knew her gilded task. Her breath had bred a mortal tint; Her stride a maddened gait. Her stare had wrought a mild hint; Her hair had strove with feral dint; To mark a lonely widowed fate. She had lived a life bereft Of solace, peace, and human joy, So now she sought a fatal theft To here replace the life she left With one of deepest dark employ. Immortal sight and vengeance for The world that stole her love away Was why her gaze begged calmly more, To claim the powers set in store; The powers I could here convey. Perhaps my actions then were not What I would dare to claim as right, But distant memories and thought Of love and loss, and what I wrought Gave reason to the sin I would ignite. She took a stride with careful grace, A step that brought her near. I stooped beside her pretty face, Behind the veil of whitened lace, And whispered words into her ear. “The night was made for we, the dead, Who feed and feast and never die. A playground forged from pain and dread, Where from our lives we look ahead And free ourselves from every putrid lie.” She whispered back with calm reprieve Through words as soft as silk. Her answer begged no sudden leave, Nor did she show the need to grieve, Forever sheltered from her human ilk. The moonlight glared its fervent shine; Her skin glowed pale and white. With careful grace, her hand in mine, I placed my lips, though set to dine, Forever readied, humble and contrite. I bit down soft with careful ease, And left her on the verge of death. The puncture brought her to her knees. With slight of tongue and willful tease I stole away her final human breath. She turned and twisted to and fro Through air as sharp as knives. With grace she forced her self below Through torment forged and set to sew The tainted fabric of her future lives. Her blood was drained, her body frail, Her shattered will afloat. She lay a dying nightingale Whose song had churned a mournful tale And left a tainted mark upon her throat. A moment passed, a moment more, And soon her hunger roused. I knelt upon the earthen floor To share with love and with abhor The crimson life my fainted veins had housed. She drew the blood through darkened vines And soon our hearts were one. The beat of hers, the beat of mine, And soon our beats had beat in time; To forge the dawn of what had just begun. She rose anon, a foul stalker, Twisted in the night. A mien of noble class about her Stunned my soul, the nightly walker; Fausting every carnal dark delight. This marked the dawn for future games Of shadowed tales and lore Involving countless other names Through timeless tests and burning flames, Forever craving words I doth adore [comments] => 1 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 13 [informant] => gravehorn [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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