She sits at a classic roll top desk comprised of the most exquisite oak, pen in hand as a journal entry is written...
'I will remain and live in the conscious present from this day forward.'
Breathe in; breathe out; breathe in; breath out...slow...abysmal...... until atelectasis is but a familiar stranger, a casualty in the self vs self War of Her World...too long....too unyielding, especially when two poles finally submit in attempt to make peace with each other...
She's so cold...shivering even on smoldering summer nights... Will her eyes confront the glimmer in his eyes of blue? brown? grey? Have they met? Will suspicion show her hideous face should he kiss her?
If she wrote a synopsis of life and its biting irony...her irony, the exception to every rule is preceded by her ambivalence, and her sins are swallowed as the spell is broken....their gateway to immortality... her ascension...
She sings, dances, appears joyous although keeps forever that Lucifer lurks in the most brilliant light, and they fail to see what becomes of a corpse once Death exposes her lust... She is endowed with an ample bosom to feed mankind with the futility of promise...but...
it's Time...
'I will be mindful...sensible....smile daily...I will concede...'
Yet she ne'er stops dreaming, for through the darkness and each subtle snowfall, one shall hear the violin of the widow..............
Yet she ne'er stops dreaming, for through the darkness and each
subtle snowfall, one shall hear the violin of the widow..............
The peace of the night is interrupted by the sweet sounds of the violin and I imagine this scene on a cold night...lovely, haunting imagery here in this piece. I am glad I found it on my reading list.
wow, you have a unique voice I liked this! will have to read some more of you I liked your name I am very fond of violet so i looked at your poem I'm glad that i did :)
Yet she ne'er stops dreaming, for through the darkness and each
subtle snowfall, one shall hear the violin of the widow..............
The peace of the night is interrupted by the sweet sounds of the violin and I imagine this scene on a cold night...lovely, haunting imagery here in this piece. I am glad I found it on my reading list.
Love the style of your writing. written with a fluent pen, that is a poem, but reads like a story with such a stunning tale! This poem blew me away with your wording and vobcabulary. Such a beautiful profound write!