Posted by IMBOLC // a dark celebration on 3/7/2004, 8:39 pm
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Dear Friend, If the danger were not so dark, I should dance for joy. Even so, I cannot help feeling happy; happier than I have felt for a long time. We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner." The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skidded away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone. You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence, of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message. With Eternal Adoration, Imbolc // a dark celebration Mistress of the Ephemeral Since long, our hearts have ever remembered the glimmer of the first stars. We looked up and loved them. Never did they seem strangers. Rather our kindred, portrayed in the Heavens with the light of lamps unaccountable. They spoke our same first language of silence. We sang about them, and they wished upon us... The days have grown ancient, and she has followed blindly, knowing only the ephemereal reality of her own existance: there can be no death, no swift decadence of mortality... the Raeko-Taureliloomea will it so. She bled day, breathed starshine, and found respite in a history that was not her own. She lamented, yes, for days which have faded into the memories of years, gold leaves falling and resurrecting as green somewhere in the deeps of the Ever-Wood. She adored the trees, and she remembered. Bright eyes beneath a curtain of rain, a seldom whispered word under the pain of death; and she saw him, standing dark against the horizon, a silver form of black with his whiteness apparent - - Belataine, Lord of Hosts and Master of the Trees; Father. And she cried for him, cried for him as land-law passed unto her, as the woodlands wept for forgotten royalty long taken away during the Great Trek to the Grey-Lands. She wept for the dark movement in the weeds, for great shadows passing alongside cave-mouths and the deep places of the world, and she knew that she was amongst close relations. It was then that she secondly came to know Sennacherib: and he spoke unto her and he instilled within her breast a kind of awakening, and she turned away from his teachings and found respite amongst the dark-ferns of the Western Lands. She'd never any intention to return, but the world has ways that even she knows nothing of, and so her legs have drug her to the deeps of the Ever-Wood, staring down paths long forgotten in the wild days of her youth. And she looked to Rotaxxes, looked to him for the strength she did not then possess, and she found it in the brightness of his eyes and the darkness of his colouring - - then she smiled, a smile that had long gone unseen, a smile belonging to the last of a known breed. A Taureli smiled with grey adoration in the deeps of the forests where she had been bred, and the soil breathed with deep relief. The weight of the years has piled up against my faded hopefulness all at once. Eternity has come, laughed her mockery in my face and left me here to wither. I could not be more naked than the trees shivering in the cruel Autumn twilight: pale and thin, stripped of every leaf. The weight of the years has piled up against my faded hopefulness all at once. Eternity has come, laughed her mockery in my face and left me here to wither. I could not be more naked than the trees shivering in the cruel Autumn twilight: pale and thin, stripped of every leaf. . The weight of the years has piled up against my faded hopefulness all at once. Eternity has come, laughed her mockery in my face Message Thread SOMETHING - IMBOLC // a dark celebration 3/7/2004, 8:39 pm Re: SOMETHING - a 7/6/2004, 1:12 pm « Back to index React Hosted for FREE by Boardhost. Create your own free message board!