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The Virgin's lover.
Contributed by
liamleash
on
Saturday, 15th May 2010 @ 04:10:30 PM in AEST
Topic:
DarkPoetry
|
The piano breaks the silence as the rain pours on the outside of the glass.
A hand in the dirt as a foot presses into the creeping in the grass.
The music rings on as the crawling speeds up.
The rain runs down making tracks as it runs down the cold unforgiving window pane.
Each note ringing through out the air as a breath outside lingers for a touch.
Faster and faster does the music play, the shadow leaves the breath behind no longer acting as crutch
As it fades into the sky, the window blows through out.
The music stops and a note is replaced with a heartbeat.
It pounds away as the footsteps outside no longer remain indiscreat.
The grass leaves a muddy grip on the shadow trying to hold it still.
'Kill me' the woman says, leaving her piano and rising from her chair.
Turning towards the window expecting to see something, there's nothing there.
A candle in the distance behind dies out as a smoke trail greets the darkness.
Unaware she looks into her garden, a haven for hell and all it's beasts.
Flowers remain no more, statues of their formerselves as weeds feed on the deceased.
Thorns and roses grow in abundance as they choke any life that remains.
The piano plays a note accompanied by a shackling of chains.
Her focus still tied to her garden unphased by the ringing in the distance.
A hand greets her mouth as she shows no resistance.
'You used to be my lover' a deep voice echos in her ears.
'You used to be my everything' the hand is met with tears.
She slowly touches the hand, dragging her finger across the fist.
Only to feel a ice cold touch that she used to miss.
'You were my virgin lover' the voice repeats as the piano plays in the deep dark vail.
A chain wraps around her from head to toe as she keeps looking beyond it dawned.
This wasnt a human, it was a creature she had spawned.
It wasnt a man nor was it a woman, it had no heart and it had no soul.
Tremors in the ground of the grass show shadows crawling from a recently opened hole.
Another candle by her side is blown out as the moon provides the only tunnel of light.
Tempo is increased sevenfold as the shadows trudge through the roses and thorns
The shadows drop to the feet as they begin to mourn
But what for? they wernt physical they couldnt kill her.
They wern't ghosts nor where they demons from hell.
Simply reminders of her becoming a empty shell.
Sold her self for one nights desire and sacrifice
Became the victim of something like a lamb to the slaughter
She wasnt the virgin's lover she was the virgin's daughter.
The garden and the house play one last part as they accompany another host.
A scream in the middle of the night waking the tennents as they are reminded of their daughters ghost.
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Copyright ©
liamleash
... [
2010-05-15 16:10:30]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Virgin's lover.
(User Rating: 1 )
by chrisdavid on
Tuesday, 18th May 2010 @ 12:24:50 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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Not usually my sort of poem as the lines seemed very long, I prefer shorter bursts.
Having said that, this poem provided an excellent story that once started, I had to finish. Good stuff.
Take care, Chris. |
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