Night of the damned

Night of the Damned

It is the forsaken night
The night of the cursed
And lost

my love returns

rising from the depths of darkness,

A whisper coils through the midnight air,
a ghostly tap upon my windowpane.

His voice, not heard for years
But never forgotten

a sigh from the abyss,
calls my name like a lover’s lament.

My heart quickens, fevered and wild
Like a child
I rush into the velvet dark,
where shadows dance

There he stands
my beloved wraith,

skin withered, kissed by rot,
maggots weave their silent hymns,
yet in my eyes,
He is the man that i love and adore...

I press my lips to his pale flesh,
the taste of dust and ruin divine
Dances in my tongue

His arms, skeletal, cradle me close,
and in death’s embrace, we waltz.

Two souls
twirling beneath the weeping moon.
The world may sunder flesh from flesh,
but my love�"will never die.

It burns, eternal, in the abyss,
a flame that even death cannot quench.

Eva A.

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

You have captured the belief of eternal love in this darkly melancholy yet hopeful poem. The images painted in your piece were striking yet convey the depths one must feel if they believe love is forever. Wonderful work. CLE