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Rated: E · Poetry · Supernatural · #1867259
So here we savor her descent, as her echo drowns in the void…
Dreams of a Baroness

I

A slow descent
As reason abandons thought
The darkness soon consumes the world around her
But it is slow;
Perhaps the light is savoury
A delicacy to the dusk as it crawls
Toward twilight
Toward this nightly vice
Unfaltering in it’s grasp
His blood cries to her
From it’s ethereal prison
As it rises and prepares
For her descent

A brief surge
And consciousness returns once more
The biting chill of deepest hell
Can phase me not this time
For I am risen
Toward this nightly vice
Undying hatred lingering
In cold, dead fingers as they twitch
In a gesture without motion
The drowning earth can hold me down no more
For I am risen…



II

The curtain rises
And she makes her appearance;
The grandeur of her gown ignites the faces
Of glancing guests so privileged to behold her
The flowing amber garment drapes the stair
A crimson river
Which lusts behind the nymph as she floats down
To the ballroom floor
The couples start their spirals
And she is overwhelmed;
A whirlwind of color as they twirl to the tune
Of nothingness, numbness overcomes her
The empty fists of non-existence pull
Upon alluring locks
Resistance futile, her neck succumbs
And her eyes behold the balcony

I remember that night
Her sanguine dress
How flawless in it’s foil to the dull rouge of the carpet
She looked so lost
The waltzing guests but a mechanical shell
As she wandered amongst them
So vulnerable
With that thought, she meets my gaze
Her eyes appear hollow, as though pierced by mine
And for merely a moment
The world was still and silent
As I am now
This reality but an illusion
And I a shape without form



III

The ballroom begets the offspring of paradise
Luscious greens and indigos
Of wilderness, blanketed by night
Between the trees lurk crawling vines
Which seek to snare each passing foot
And drag it to the ground
With frail force, her grab to such succumbs
And she is brought tumbling to the ground
Tangled in the growth, they scream
They beg her to uncover their secrets
The outcome of impulse
The vines part, allowing her to descend into the ground
A personal abyss
In which her skeletons lay in wait

This reality is similar my own
It is dark, solemn, comforting
It is also warm, however
A foreign concept in a freezing eternity
Eventually, such becomes true solace
And I long for it
The earth then begins to part, so organic in it’s movement
And my vision is once again restored;
The world here is grey, however
Shades without color
Held against my chest is my miracle
The glorious mistake, it’s seed not permitted to grow
The beauty of conception drowned in the seas of doubt
As inexplicable tides rise
At a rate almost violent
They consume us
And the world again is black



IV

There is no comforting chamber
To house this slumber
No majestic palaces
To stage this ball
Nor a bountiful garden
To shelter these secrets
There is but darkness
To constrict this tomb
And as she knelt in front of it
Two spirits ascend, one to tower above the other
Speech forbidden, they require no words
Yet their tongues still able to lash out with judgement
A call of relief to her surreal tears;
“You may fall”
Their silent screams echo throughout a hollow conscience
The paralyzing force sending tremors through the nonexistent ground
As it too decays
And she begins her nightly descent
The visions slowly fade as she falls, gaining speed
No collision shall free her
No, the bang she longs for never arrives
And the pathetic tone of a whimper is what remains
The echo slowly fading
And she is gone

Words have no meaning here; The daunting truths of existence are not to be spoken
But to be witnessed. So here we savour her descent, as her echo drowns in the void…



V

The rising sphere to mark the coming day
Will soon be looking downward from the skies
It’s fond inferno smiling to the night
To bid farewell as it recedes to naught

Perhaps it’s grin is similar to hers
In feigned acceptance for the laws of fate
Her blade-less thrust into my unborn heart
Has born of truest love the deepest hate


As it ascends, begets a blue horizon
So those who wish to gaze may so in awe
At mountains standing resolute in form
Where truest beauty is second to none

But such was not the process of her thoughts
When stumbling upon her lovers corpse
Although I cannot now restore our lives
We plague her nightmares, father and his son

As she succumbs to slumber every night
As she would dream of us, so too do we of her;
Dreams of the baroness
Although we come with spiteful intentions
We are the mercy she craves
The words she begs to speak
The day she begs to come
But never will
As she is afraid to join us in the ground
So instead, we join her
With dreams of a baroness
Every night, we assist her;
We rise
So she may descend

© Copyright 2012 B. R. Jensen (brjensen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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