Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Mourning of the Dying Bride

There’s a moon in a sky as black as sackcloth
Tossed on clouds of slate;
Fired like the drum that holds the vintage wine.
With the eyes of a goddess in the light,
She waits at the edge of the ocean sea,
Bare feet in the sand of the beach;
Many miles from anywhere in either direction,
But only inches away from me…

I listen to her breathing, the tide of the light in the sky.
I see her naked, cradled by nothing but moonlight,
And I watched her bathe in the roaring tide.
While the stars overhead sang in mourning of the dying bride.

            She died there in my arms,
            At the water’s edge.
            Her spirit left when the tide eased,
            And she bled into the sand.
            She bled into the sand…

My heart is on the ocean waves tossing on a dream,
Braving the calm of the storm.
The irony was that I looked it in the eye.
And the ice in my heart grew warm,
The goddess she took my only love
and crushed it into grains of sand.
And when I saw her fingers open
There was a shining pearl in her hand.

I still hear her breathing, frost in the winter air.
And I still see her clinging to me as we fought against the tide.
In her eyes once burned a love so near and so dear to me,
And the stars overhead sang in mourning of the bride.

            She died there in my arms,
            Prayed to me not to let her go.
            But the arms of the goddess beckoned me
            As she bled into the sand.
            She bled into the sand…

And I let her go to her death without the conscience of a lover
But a pirate.
Reefing the chest from the ‘X’ mark in the ground.
Cutting off the protests of my companions with the knife I took from my scabbard
And left them bleeding in the sand.

I ran to the goddess but she laughed at me
And tore my clothes with the talons of a harpy.
Beneath her malice I fell like a snowflake into hell;
My body joining hers in the rising oceanic swell.

            She died there in my arms
            As I strove to new perfection.
            The one chance in a million gone,
            I could have saved her.
            She bled into the sand…

She died at my hand.

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