Continued from Part 1
Coiled candle sticks! Their iron claws no longer loom the cracks
with dying flame in smoky swirl mid clotting pearls of wax,
since night lit up, and innocence dissolved in deadend tracks.
Thin shadows shift, like silver shafts, across the cruel moraine
reflecting once a wisp of light in drops of ebon bane
which casts a crooked smile across a faceless window pane.
Above! The cage of vapid night reveals a velvet streak,
through which the wicked winter winds will sometimes weave and sneak.
Afar! Some distant cables sway, a bridge clings hushed and bleak .
The parapets, unoccupied, with neither voice nor crier,
no cantillation, belfry bells; no Minarets inspire –
abodes and buildings silhouette a mirthless muted choir.
Wan neon lights glow overcast with darkness meant to slate
and lanterns hanging high above, in silent swinging gait,
haunt ballrooms, bars, abandoned now, with no one left to fete.
The skyline, pale, shows no remorse, neath twilight’s silver shrouds
oblivious she always was to cries in dying crowds –
in foggy neap their spirits seep, a clutch of clammy clouds.
The steeple towers, stone and steel, drab daggers in the sky!
Their hallowed halls ring empty now, though breezes wander by –
but, daring not to wake the dead, they’ve ceased to sough or sigh.
No things appear with jagged tongues to sing a silent psalm
or paint pale lips with languid laughs to pierce the deathly calm –
there’s only hollow emptiness that shifting shades embalm.
Continued in Part 3
MORAINE: gravelly, sandy terrain
SLATE: 1. to cover, as with slate ; 2. to punish severely
CLAMMY:1. cold and damp; 2. (slang/informal) silent, secretive