(2001)
#LoveLove #Romance #Unrequited
I shan’t e’er embroil my mind with… Or conflict my soul with doubt, When I’ve applied myself whole-he… In result to end in rout; Thus unto my thoughts I dwell dee…
Weary grey has dimmed the day, Woe as thus to come my way And laden lay upon my mind, Its dark distracting sorrows! Grey this day may thus convey
I’ve reclined amidst this nightly… And leaned mine ear into the still… Shall angels sound, or sirens sing… What this night shall silence brin… The silent darkness besets mine ea…
O’ the black bird this final twili… He comes this night upon stealthy… And thus to this I am fraught wit… For darkness knells; O’ whither s… Upon the ethereal wind this bird h…
Ghostly lights suffuse the churchy… Old phantoms lurk nigh every stone And the night wind gusts the barre… Above this hallowed loam. There in prayer one silent sentine…
O’ farewell, peaceful dreams, As I repose this night to sleep, For conflict has dimmed another da… Beyond the threshold of my keep! Alas, I am harried by uncertainty…
O’ I have found no peace in my pr… For there is no wealth in my dispa… And therefore I have found no cla… In this life, alone! I have found the darkness of despe…
Nary dare I tend to touch upon The tangible ordinary, For I prefer the delightful pull Toward the imaginary. O’ be it to ponder or be it to roa…
Accurséd be the refuge of Baneber… For those who shelter there, Where the lingering spirits stalk… From depths of great despair; And the walls they breathe as tho’…
He stood high upon the white cliff… Looking out to sea, And as he watched its ebb and flow There upon he wished to be; O, he then saw the seabirds soarin…
Casting dark upon a vacant page Ghosts appear expressing rage And mirrored too in grim despair Troubles loom of which I bear! Tho’ each thought lay blesséd not,
When the twilight foretells of dar… Then shall the candle burn And I await the spirit of magic With the hope it will return. I hearken closely unto the silence
O’ torrents of darkness And voices from the pitch, Be this a tempest or madness, It matters not which! O’ tormented and sorrowed,
Swords are raised and battles foug… Thus poets live beyond the grave, For there are warriors who are poe… Tho’ not to pen a stave. There are poets of the battles fou…
Between these Gothic walls of mor… O, here with dread is where I roa… For the misty forms that here come… Are of the dead abroad who are not… They move where shadows lie