Tuesday, 9 February 2016

A Fate Worse Than Death (February 9, 2016)


Upon the wings
Of midnight black
I soak
The night's sky.

My true love
Whom I lost.

As a murder of Crows
Scrawls Heaven
And Earth.

I can't go.

As punishment
For dealing
In the darker arts.

By pursuing
Forbidden knowledge.

In the hope
Of curing
What was killing you
My wife.

Never realizing
In healing you
I was condemning us
To a fiery fate.

As that ignorant fool
Of a priest
Led the lynch mob
Against us.

With murder
In his heart.

Even now
On these dark
And lonely nights
A single blood red tear
Is sled.

As I remember
How I abandoned you
To your doom
On the pyre.

By invoking
My dark Masters
In a single moment
Of weakness
On my part.

For which
I was rewarded
By having my body
Into dark sex siren.

To roam
The nightly sex dreams
Of men.

I find you
Once more
My dear  heart.

And earn
Your forgiveness
For my sins.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Every so often, I like to search, through the gothic images, and see, if there are anyone that pique my curiosity, to write a poem, about it. Sadly, I can't think of a gothic tune, which would compliment this event. Maybe, next time.

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