A Cobalt Cry10548 Poems Read |
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Second Sight
Sardonic on a heartless escarpment I am just a shard of argence. Intense unceasing, glinting internecine, I glean all wayward rays with my razor gaze in cat's eye catharsis as I am dilated night-wide like a sidereal sigh that denies... the darkness. Cipher a star-sign... wish upon a Mara. Altered in likewise under Psyche skies, I materialize as a caul of hollow light. In nimbus rampant lambent, I am an aura, naught but noctilucent thoughts marooned amid marble. Garbed in granite gloom in the bone-yard I stand alone murk circumscribed as eventide flows through a siege of Stone. Unknown souls endure... and abide as a sunless undertow seizes the horizon, tiny scions of lightning, fireflies frightened glimmer before the eye of the storm. Shining ironic and forlorn the glistening is ever distant, a vision veiled in cirrus scorn as a paler Jacob's Ladder is scattered in a crown of silver thorns. Spellbound, livid in luciform I am embattled in brindle. Wind-whipped, the cimmerian spin-drift is driven and spun into ruthless wraiths of moon-spray as umbra comes through in raven waves and Nevermore yet breaks... upon the shore of my gaze. A horde of craven foreshadows slash in passing... threnody. My cenotaph abides as the scythe yet seethes. Growing gray, they strike in spite and greed while Stone Roses feed on the light I bleed. Asphodel blooms beneath my luminous wounds as I seed the gloom in an elegaic grace. Selene is ever two-phased as the rabid avarice lacerates and the murmuring Moon... averts her face. Lurking late the blackness waxes irate as sacred hatred gathers in the shade of Selene. But twilight prayers, all eidolons and nightmares are yet afraid of my Greater Dream. With a stelae stare I bare my radius blade in a sadder glance of adamantine. A relentless lament glints of granite as my vehement vision keens... For hardship has honed me so much sharper than the darkness in this abandoned demesne. An overcast scansion chants derision and drizzles of disdain. Gusting upon the cusp Eurus soughs stanzas of random rain and all my Love is phantom pain. Faint forsaken thoughts, rosaries, and forget-me-nots effloresce in my head for I am but a memory left for dead. Ebbing in waves of reverie immersed amid verse she may never read I live this life not taken... as a Rage of graven Angels cast a wrath of shadows. Praying contrite, they writhe in flight keening between the rows as heaven is forever grounded in a winged sorrow. Glowing stoic gleaming indifferent, growing gibbous with visage dismal, I keep the Vigil beside my tomb. Looming nigh, limned in a moon-sigh Lesser Lights fall but soft, for all darkness is star-crossed. A'glisten the skies are fraught with far cries. Distant, I list to the lullabies lest I Rise before I Wake. Unrequited I recite a nightmare prayer and an eidolon dream at haunt, I sidle between the sonnets and monuments I raised to her. As a phantasm fades in shades of jade razure I am just an apparition adrift in a gray-green rapture. Keening a dirge, ghosting slowly down I coalesce on Holy Ground, amid the light of her gaze and the sound of my words. Unquiet I am but a murmur, a peripheral whisper dispossessed. Silent, I dilate into darkness lost so soft in a star-crossed caress. Damned and englamoured I am nevertheless a Revenant yet hesitant to resurrect as a swan-song haunts the sepulcher in hymns windswept. Limned in a nimbus of penumbra I am just a shimmer summoned, the unhallowed halo that rings the light. Evanescent, I coruscate in ebon silhouette. A restive Spectre, I yet tread upon the echo of her step. Of late, I wait for Rebecca's breath... to bring me to life. Copyright Luke Michael Owens - July 16, 2008
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