Beauties of November

Eternity had me locked within its grips; I was its vow…

Such was the story of the man I’d love to call a drifter, sifting his way through the mess left in his mind by all he chose to live for- perhaps he died for them, do tell. But such was the manner in which he conducted his existence, having for his foundation thought:

He who loves must die…

And now he’s wrapped in the very mysteries wrapped around him, thoughts of pains and joys lie between, trying to get head or tail of whichever way the wind blows, and in his mind,

Tomorrow will surely come…

But what if it doesn’t?

Last season I set my eyes on a most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my twenty one lives,

And a sword slashed right down from the top of me. I mean, it was the most uncomfortable feeling never one to be prayed for, but well- here it was. Tried ignoring it but it just won’t go

So I pretended it wasn’t there, while it grew in the background till I set my eyes on the creature again. Then the spell stood…

She was the veiled child, Daughter of Dreams…

 

 

“She’s the veiled child, mystery,
Born out of clouds; dreams,
The dream of mysteries,           

Hiding beneath the common show of obscurity,
The average human’s world;
Or there’s the key.

For to the end that all be dead and she remain,
My hope which I seek is she,
Outside my grasp; my mind doth not fathom,

I search unknowingly. And so
I push all sorts away, locking me
In my high dark tower, refusing even
To gaze upon them; Children of the Vile.

Yet for this, she may take off the veil
And pierce me with the gaze I killed them with
Though not to death, another mystery,
For then will the beginning of life be.

But I fear- the past is condemned to repeat itself,
Or doth she condemn the past with me in it?
Or me without?

Perhaps hope has a place for long lost hearts,
And the joy of dawn may surpass the drowning dark.
Maybe then, the angels I sought to kill
Will kill me, and I close my eyes only
To the death of the past,
Watching the future rebirth itself. Till then,
I gaze upon the skies, waiting.”

And I wake like one out of a trance, with the core wrapped by the dark mist whom none would get past- but I got a glimpse one innocent afternoon and that would spark off a whole new world of forever, robe of blue and gold, all for five golden minutes. And trust me; another world has been formed by this mysterious wonder of nature. But in every lifetime, there’s always a time where you have to make a choice to do the right thing, or regret indecision. I escaped that by my five minutes…

I feared a fear that day, and the fear I feared was that I would return to the beginning, before everything that is, began, while I still lived, before I died. I feared that the cycle would repeat, and I come to once more distrust the very beauties of creation: the female sort; I feared I’ll lose myself to vulnerability again. I feared all there is to fear. But despite the fear, I did something my fantasies would greatly disapprove should they hear; I went for my Queen of Dawn (it would interest me to know that my beauty is the star of November, the Fourth). And it was no easy journey, nor has it been ever. I sent my thoughts through the wind and they landed in her ears, or I hope they did. And I got to speak with my beauty many times after then, the great rejoicing me:

And it should be, that his thoughts should take root in her mind, and at least stay….

But such was not to last long, for I was soon to quit and bow out from the system, for then my fear grew as to the outcome of everything, when she would find me out, the negativity of all; I pictured a very terrible landing and it was not pleasant. So against every wish known to me, I quietly slink out of my quest to get to her; she has proven to be an uncommon island, and I was to die going to meet her:

But it was worth it-

It was worth opening me up to the possibilities of what I hoped would be the outcome, and the process was as enlightening as it ends abruptly…

 

Now I end my story:

She was the lovely creature I set my eyes on several times ago,

Now she’s the most beautiful wonder known to creation;

And she exists in my mind’s world, Queen of Dawn.

For everything she opened me up to, I remain

Eternally grateful, and I see a part of me

I thought was dead- it beats, however slowly.

I feared I would return to the beginning of my time

Where what I am now was dead, but no.

I’ll let me live, and I’ll watch me live-

I hope she gets to see me, the part which lives,

If only just once…

Thus ends the story of the drifter on February the Sixth, 2:20 pm, and of my mind’s journey with the Queen of Dawn; long live my liege-

May the Veiled Child be seen, as I watch the morning wake.