A Mourning Palace

One's first true love shall be one's first true lesson

 

I weep because I weep because of woe,

And this woe, inducing weep, speaketh: “loss.”

And at that – a mere word! – I’m betossed,

Thus I delve beyond Dreams in search of foe:

 

Perched upon bubbles of granite I see

Trees upon trees dancing a spectral dance.

Their tops! They step to the beat of Romance;

The sway of mine heart – How dare I snub thee!

In trancelike mystique I find Forest floor

Softly littered; delightful to mine feet.

The hushing of crunching; a sacred treat

“More, O more!” What harm’s there to implore?

Ah! At that selfish greed I made mistake,

“You Fool, O Fool, the foulest of Fools!

You’ll suffer with the Devil’s grandest stake!”

Gratitude. Yes – the forest’s Golden Rule.

 

“Forgive me, forgive me,

How dare I snub thee!”

 

As in reply, I spied a dim clearing

Fringed with shy-slanting, gnarled limbed, leafless trees.

Fearing, hearing a disjointed sneering,

I followed whispers which clung within a breeze.

Thence I came upon a Mourning Palace

(Hear it grumble and groan in all its glum),

Its gibbered yard pleasant as raw callous

And inside, a beat, beat, beating of a drum.

As I drew near a few thick Shadows played,

The sun shied behind a thunderous cloud,

And to mine malice the Shadows remained!

The Shadows of love no longer allowed.

 

A devoured spirit I loved in yore

Ushered me unto the sad Palace door.

I asked a way in with a

            Knock,

            Knock,

            Knocking.

And mine only answer’s a

            Beat!

            Beat!

            Beating!

“Art thou pulsing the Trees in spectral dance?

Art thou the one snubbed in mine blind Romance?

Say Mourning Palace, tell me what thou art.”

 

“I’m thy sad beat, beat, beating of a heart!”

Reviews

[S.E. Conway]

wow...

[Rachael]

you already know that i love this poem, but im a gonna say it again here anyway. i love this poem. its so poe, but in a more shane-ish kind of way. my only suggestion would be to take the exclaimation out of the last line? i would put dots. (...) cos its creepier. but it is your poem and it is fabulous so do what you bloody well like with it!