Darkness has descended on my hall

as the bright rays of sunlight peeked;

There is a gentle howl in the air

as the wind beckoned.

Winter's chill entered my bones

bringing them close to the realm

of perpetual sleep.

To rest,

To sleep,

to finally escape this agony

called Love -

The desire of the already dead

as we walk in the world of the living.

Eyes that meet,

eyes that forget the moment that eyes meet,

forever lost, forever the travellers in an unknown land.

Lost dreams, the land

of illusions and delusions

of countless remissions and revisions

as the world of lost dreams beckon

the unsuspecting hurt ones, to drown.

Love, the land of agony and ecstasy,

of nightmare and fantasy,

forever the cloud that looms over existence.

We fall back as it follows,

we die as it lives

feeding on the rotting carcass

as it watches bones bleach under the glare of the desert sun.

We drink its blood and we find thirst,

we seek life but we find death.

Love unrequited,

Love unreturned;

holding on to that which causes pain.

Agonizing ecstasy, pleasure of pain,

the agonizingly ecstatic pain of pleasure -

this we treasure.

In riches we find we are poor,

rich in love and yet devoid of the one

from which to share that love.

Unrequited, unreturned

I fall under its glare

beckoning from the suffering that gives self-destruction

its life giving glow.

 

==============================

 

 

At the beckoning of the twilight land

I reached out my hand

as the tentacles of time wandered

a pilgrim in black pondered

on the whereabouts of a maiden fair

(her head laiden with reddish brown hair)

as he watched the setting sun.

 

At the beckoning of the twilight land

I noticed the slow movement of the sand

as the minutes passed into hours

I beheld the smell of flowers

like the sweet scent that comes from thy neck

glimpses of heaven's garden, mere speck

of wondrous delight.

 

At the beckoning of the twilight land

my ears beheld a silent command

to leave thine maiden be

as she travels across the sea

in search of her gentle heart

(a beauty - such divine work of art)

that beats in her heaving bosom.

 

At the beckoning of the twilight land

I wondered if the gods had planned

that such an angel would haunt

this memory filled by the taunt

of one word this angel uttered,

a word so gently muttered;

My heart spasmodically fluttered

when she called me

"sTHUpidhed . . ."

 

==============================

 

 

I think of thee again this night

amidst the silent glow of candlelight

as the heavens and angels sleep

in me you remain buried deep

in a breast that constantly weep

for your touch

your kiss

your smile.

Deprived I am of such wonder

as all things I cast asunder

to be by your side.

This my soul cried

as I watched your eyes unseen look

into me like an open book.

And as I tear open these pages,

bindings, shackles, and cages,

these arms reach out into the darkness

calling out your name.

Maiden, sweet Maiden, from across the sea

how this pilgrim wishes that he could be

with you forever and through the ages

amidst the challenges and spells of Sages

to be held and to hold

together a blanket in days of cold;

And with one silent whisper

from thy lips of burgundy lisper

I fall into the ecstatic abyss

where you dwell,

this well . . .

For tonight it is you I miss

From thy lips in dreams I crave

One kiss . . .

 

==============================

 

 

I see thee from afar

as the moon shines in a red glow.

There is a silence that is deafening

for your soul is silent

and still

as the grass sleeps underneath the winter snow.

I see you from afar yet I know not

if that is truly you I see

for I see not the soul that blinds me,

but a shell of what used to be -

beauty of undying eternity.

And yet I know that such beauty I love

dwells within thy bosom

for as I see you from afar

your brightness remains near

yet out of reach from these beckoning hands

that bleed in agony for one touch,

one caress from your nimble fingers.

Your eyes I met not in that chamber,

your smile I did not see,

and yet in that chamber I sought you

as I would if you've dwelt across the sea.

this heart aches for what could be -

to have you and to hold,

for to me you are more precious

than all silver and gold.