This piece is "Part 8" of a series (the last one... HOORAY! I actually finished something!). It was inspired by a poem written by =tytaniafairy and is actually just the eighth stanza - the rest of her poem is reproduced below in its entirety (with her kind permission).
It's also my entry for &'s "Stormy Weather" contest (details here [link]) In addition to the natural storms we all experience as the seasons pass us by year after year, so, too are we forced to weather the storms of life: pain, sorrow, loss, suffering, hardship, and many others. And while the latter do indeed make us stronger and help us to grow as individuals, I'll take a good old-fashioned thunderstorm instead any day!
I would like to specially dedicate this one to ...for the poem, for your friendship, for everything, Chas
It's also dedicated to those whose writings inspire me tremendously and keep my brain from turning to mush!
I hope you all like this one! I've got a fresh batch of cookies ready and waiting...
Poem Love Lost by (fave it here if you havent already: [link])
My heart sings of a thousand miseries, And spring never comes over my eyes, My breath starts the day and ends the night, And so brings sleeping in seraph's dream.
Red cold lips shudder, tender to the touch, But such soft rushes of midnight are gone. The only strike of skin is dead, like sullen Cruelty in passions hateful smiles.
Awoke, awaken the soul with wings, The dark character visits in an eclipse of heaven. Alone except shadows crawl out, this apparition Drudges the floor unto my frightened eye.
All dead and the imperial shoulders do shiver, A memory comes to life, a living moment did waiver. Over-friendly and ghastly to my sight, under the waves Of cover, my head were a diadem of tears.
The swelled eyes glisten, the world is broken, A wing is injured and nightmare spun. What will is poor, yet bold it rejoiced - A wall to separate translucent whispers.
Love is the parasite, indured to obey its matter. Last stands are taken away to thunder and made to fall In eerie waves of crimson flame. Burnt out too soon by the coming last breath that t'was slain.
No more midnights, no more sweet kisses at dawn, No more delights in galactic streams to grow. No more this delicate muse to inspire the crooked heart, And no more eternity, and now dies the bosom of me.
So night comes again and again and passes into years, That guest, the dark visitor beckons to swallow me up, Wonders here to kill. And ever do the embers flow, And ever does the music mourn.
Yes, ma'am night always attacking us Yes, there is an area of fill us with sadness But there is a window if we want to open them The day will come With birds and butterflies And music, With the smile you give to others Yes we are all in the yearning of tenderness To meet the smile from the heart If your window opened Madam scheduled to open on the night the day will come Madam Mona Kvea it and the wisdom of long years of wisdom of the East No matter how long the night The sun will rise The hearts of many around you invites you to heaven that you may be happy I would be happy to be joining in the heart which it hopes to be happy
Sometimes I must admit that I don't entirely understand what you're saying (I don't know the references sometimes...) but the words are so poetic and wonderful anyway I really appreciate the time and effort you put into your comments, my friend
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