Lachrymose Lament
As the last petal falls
upon trembling twigs,
and the heart withers,
like nocturnal stars
weeping in a casket~
of ice-laced sepals,
soaked in searing silence,
cloaked in thistles of nothingness,
let Cleopatra’s amulets
dress your blurred horizon,
embroidered with
empty promises.
I wear our forbidden love
like a bleeding epitaph,
inscribed with
gusts of grief
and twisted tendrils,
emanating memories of us~
a mystical reflection of
how once we danced
like daffodils sipping
spiced gold magic
while the satanic sun
burned the flickering
flames of felicity within twin souls,
weaving poetic pansies
across the symphonic sky,
brushed with Sahara crystals,
unfolding a canopy of unbreakable
c o m p a s s i o n ...
O beloved black dahlia,
if I could, I would
fetch you the moon on a spoon,
steal the galaxies~
wrap them in
supernova serenity.
I’ll paint lakes of longing
with opalescent silver,
sculpt Swarovski swans
glazed in iridescent bliss,
tempting the alluring twilight
to drizzle aurora threads
across mysterious silhouettes,
engrossed in
an ethereal orchestra.
But if tomorrow
these words weigh little
less than the dreams
we’ve dreamed in stillness,
remember my soul is tied
to your rain-kissed metaphors,
and even if rhymes cannot
fix what’s undone,
these verses ache
to cleanse every stain
left within lifeless leaflets.
For no shift in season
could veil the vibrancy of vermilion
still rushing through these veins,
singing your name
in scarred cadence,
resting my quivering quill on
the cusp of the cursed springs,
as I embrace darkness before
the dawning of dulcet wings,
to lure you back
to the land of timeless trinkets,
a lachrymose lament~
romanticized as the requiem
for bewitched orchards...
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Ink Empress
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